A SYMPOSIUM 


ON ESCHATOLOGY 






































A SYMPOSIUM 

ON 

ESCHATOLOGY 


BY MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY 

» » 

OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE AND EXEGESIS 


NEW HAVEN 

PUBLISHED FOR THE SOCIETY BY THE 
YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
MDCCCCXXIII 


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TABLE OF CONTENTS 

I. Viewpoints in the Discussion of Isaiah’s 
Hopes for the Future. 

K. Fullerton . . . . .1 

II. The Origin of Jewish Eschatology. 

N. Schmidt ...... 102* 

III. Some Observations on the Attitude of the 
Synagogue toward the Apocalyptic Eschatol¬ 
ogical Writings. 

L. Ginzberg ..... 115 

IV. The Place of Apocalyptical Conceptions in the 
Mind of Jesus. 

E. F. Scott ...... 137 

V. The ‘Son of Man’ in the Usage of Jesus. 

B. W. Bacon.143 

VI. The Place of Apocalyptical Conceptions in the 
Thought of Paul. 

F. C. Porter ..... 183 




























, 














































































PREFACE 


The fortieth annual meeting of The Society of Biblical 
Literature and Exegesis held in New York in Decem¬ 
ber, 1921, was marked by an introductory Symposium on 
the subject of Biblical Eschatology. These addresses, 
five in number, by scholars representative of biblical 
science both in Old and New Testament, are subjoined. 
To them is prefixed the Opening Address of the President 
of the Society, whose topic was closely allied. In 
reprinting these six addresses to form a separate volume 
the authors hope they may be rendering a service to 
biblical theology in one of its most important and keenly 
debated fields. 


B. W. B. 






















































































































VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH’S 
HOPES FOR THE FUTURE 1 


KEMPER FULLERTON 

OBERLIN GRADUATE SCHOOL OP THEOLOGY 

INTRODUCTION 

I N reading Schweitzer’s Quest of the Historical Jesus some 
years ago, I was struck by the analogy between the problem 
of the significance of Jesus and the problem of the significance 
of Isaiah. The two schools of thought which have followed 
different paths in the quest of the historical Jesus have followed 
different paths in the quest of the historical Isaiah. According 
to one of these schools, the controlling interest both of Jesus 
and Isaiah is eschatological, supernaturalistic, even apocalyptic; 
according to the other, it is ethical and spiritual. It is an easy 
charge for the eschatologists to make that the rival interpretation 
is only an attempt to modernize Jesus and the prophets, to 
make their teachings intelligible to the modern man and service¬ 
able to the needs of modern life. The ethical school might retort 
that the eschatologists, in the laudable desire not to subordinate 
historical research to the practical interests of the present, have 

i The Introduction and Second Part of the present essay, now some¬ 
what expanded, were given as the Presidential Address before the Society 
at its annual meeting in December, 1921. The essay seeks to present a 
resume of the more important points of view in Isaiah-research, but a 
resume which is at the same time an argument, and which suggests a 
conclusion. Naturally, however, even in the exceptionally roomy space 
which has been so generously allotted to me in the Journal, the exegetical 
basis of the argument could not be introduced except in a few more 
important instances. I hope some day to make good this deficiency in 
another connection. 


1 


2 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


become so obsessed by the alien idiom in which the timeless 
truths of the spiritual world are expressed as to ignore these 
eternal truths themselves; the fascination of a foreign tongue, 
the curiosity which it excites, have proved too much for them. 
These mutual recriminations get us nowhere, except in so far 
as they warn us of the necessity constantly to correct our 
personal equations—the most necessary, as it is the most diffi¬ 
cult, thing for a historical investigator to do. In the case of 
Isaiah, the neo-critical school, 2 which has dominated Isaiah 
research during the past generation, has in general inclined to 
the ethical and spiritual interpretation of the prophet, though 
with one notable exception. Duhm has always contended for a 
theory of the prophet’s significance, which, while by no means 
ignoring the ethical and spiritual elements in his teachings, has 
greatly emphasized the eschatological and supernatural. Of 
course, the scholars of conservative convictions have always 
rejoiced in the eschatological interpretation, for it is supposed 
to do justice to the Messianic idea in prophecy which has played 
the leading role in ecclesiastical exegesis of the Old Testament. 
In recent years the conservative positions have been supported 
from a most unexpected quarter. The archaeological school 3 of 
criticism, represented especially by Gunkel and Gressmann, has 
done much, it is claimed, to strengthen the conservative defense 
of the genuineness of certain prophecies attributed to Isaiah, in 
which the eschatological element is especially prominent, and 
upon which the attack of the neo-critical school has been most 

2 By the neo-critical school is meant that group of scholars who accept 
in general the principles of the Graf-Wellhausen hypothesis and who, 
starting with the rejection of the Babylonian and kindred prophecies in 
Isaiah (cc. 12; 13 i—14 23 ; 21 1 - 10 ; 24—27; 34; 35) have steadily advanced 
to more drastic eliminations. The neo-critical movement was initiated 
by Stade in a series of articles on Zechariah in the ZATW 1881—84; it 
received its greatest impetus from Duhm’s great commentary on Isaiah 
in 1892. 

3 I select the name “archaeological school” because it is chosen by 
Gressmann, himself, to differentiate his method of investigation from 
that of the neo-critical school. (See Ursprung der israelitisch-jiidischen 
Eschatologie , pp. 2, 246.) The significance of this designation will appear 
in the sequel. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


O 

O 


determined. But I would warn conservative friends to fear the 
Trojans bearing gifts. Sellin, however, who has been the quickest 
to perceive the new strategy provided by the archaeological 
school for the defense of the conservative position and who has 
made the shrewdest use of it, claims that the neo-critical school 
has not only failed to carry this new system of defense, but has 
failed even to make the attempt to do so. This accusation has 
a certain measure of truth in it. The debate between the two 
schools of interpretation, which was beginning to be so interesting 
just before the war, was prorogued indefinitely. Little, at least 
little that has been accessible to me, has been done to meet 
Sellin’s challenge. 4 


4 For Sellin’s challenge see Der A. T. Prophetismus , p. 111. The 
following Bibliography does not claim to be exhaustive, but it aims to 
give a list of those works which have contributed directly to the following 
discussion. 

Commentaries. 


1724. 
1779—’81. 
1821. 

1883. 
1867. 
1872. 

1884. 
1887. 
1887. 

1889. 

1890. 
1892. 

1895. 

1896. 

1897. 
1900. 
1905. 

1911. 

1912. 
1915. 


Vitringa, Commentarius in librum prophetiarum Jesaiae. 
Koppe, Jesaias. 

Gesenius, Der Prophet Jesaia. 

Hitzig, Der Prophet Jesaja. 

Ewald, Propheten des Alten Bundes. 2. Ausg. 

Knobel, Der Prophet Jesaia. 4. Ausg. (revised by Diestel). 
Cheyne, The Prophecies of Isaiah. 5. Ed., 1889. 
Bredenkamp, Der Prophet Jesaia. 

Orelli, Die Propheten Jesaja und Jeremia. 

Delitzsch, Commentar uber das Buch Jesaia. 4. Aufl. 
Dillmann, Der Prophet Jesaia. 2. Aufl. (Kittel), 1898. 
Duhm, Das Buch Jesaia. 2. Aufl., 1902; 4. Aufl., 1914. 
Cheyne, Introduction to the Book of Isaiah. 

Skinner, Book of the Prophet Isaiah (Cambridge Bible). 
2. Ed., 1915. 

Geo. Adam Smith, The Book of Isaiah (Expositors Bible). 
Marti, Das Buch Jesaja. 

Whitehouse, Isaiah (New Century Bible). 

Wade, Isaiah (Westminster Commentaries). 

Gray, Isaiah (International Critical Commentary). 

Hans Schmidt, Jesaia (Schriften des A. T. in Auswahl). 


General Works, Monographs and Special Articles. 
1875. Duhm, Theologie der Propheten. 

1882. Robertson Smith, Prophets of Israel. 2. Ed., 1895. 
1881—’84. Stade, Deuterozacharja and miscellaneous articles. 

1 * 


4 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


It is one of the aims of this address to examine the Gunkel- 
Gressmann theories and methods as applied to Isaiah. Have 
these men furnished a really adequate basis for the defense of 


1881—’85. 
1884. 

1884. 

1885. 

1885. 

1886. 

1888. 

1888. 

1890. 

1892. 

1892. 


1893. 

1895. 

1895. 

1897. 

1897. 

1898. 

1899. 

1901. 

1902. 
1902. 
1902. 

1902. 

1903. 
1903. 

1903. 

1904. 

1905. 

1905. 

1906. 
1906. 


Stade, Geschichte des Volkes Israel. Yol. I; Yol. II, 1888. 
Cornill, Composition des Buclies Jesaia. ZATW, pp. 83—105. 
Smend, Uber die Bedeutung des Tempels. STK, p. 689 ff. 
Guthe, Das Zukunftsbild des Jesaias. 

Sorensen, Juda und die Assyrische Weltmacht (Chemnitzer 
Programm). 

Wellhausen, Prolegomena z. Geschichte Israels. 3. Ausg. 
Chapters I and XI, especially. 

Driver, Isaiah, his Life and Times (Men of the Bible). 
Giesebrecht, Die Immanuel-Weissagung. STK. 
Giesebrecht, Beitrage z. Jesajakritik. 

Kuenen, Historisch-kritische Einleitung etc. Deutsche Ausg. 
Winckler, Alttestamentliche Untersucliungen. pp. 26—49 
(On the Isaiah Narratives). 

Hackmann, Zukunftserwartung des Jesaia. 

Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit. 
Porter, A Suggestion regarding Isaiah’s Immanuel. JBL, 
pp. 19—36. 

Bruckner, Die Composition des Buches Jesaia. cc. 28—33. 
Yolz, Die Vorexilische Prophetie und der Messias. 
Meinhold, Die Jesaiaerzahlungen. 

Smend, Lehrbuch der A. T. Religionsgeschichte. 2. Aufl. 
Sellin, Studien z. Entstehungsgeschichte d. Jiidischen 
Gemeinde. 

Boehmer, Der ATliche Unterbau des Reiches Gottes. 
Nagel, Der Zug des Sanherib gegen Jerusalem. 

Nowack, Die Zukunftshoffnungen Israels in der Assyrischen 
Zeit (Festschrift Holtzmann’s, p. 33 ff.). 

Procksch, Geschichtsbetrachtung und Geschichtliche Uber- 
lieferung bei den Yorexilischen Propheten. 

Gunkel, Forschungen z. Religion und Literatur des Alten 
u. Neuen Testaments. 

Meinhold, Der heilige Rest. Studien z. Israelitischen Reli- 
gionsgeschichte, Bd. I. 

Prasek, Sanherib’s Feldziige gegen Judah. 

Kautzsch, Religion of Israel. H. D. B. extra Vol. 

Stade, Biblische Theologie des Alten Testaments. 

Wilke, Jesaja und Assur. 

Gressmann,Ursprung der israelitisch-jiidischenEschatologie. 
Kennett, The Prophecy in Is. 9 1 - 7 . Journal of Theological 
Studies (April). 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


5 


those prophecies in the first thirty-nine chapters against which 
the neo-critical school has delivered its most formidable attacks? 
In order to understand the strategy of the defense it is 

1906. Kuchler, Die Stellung des Propheten Jesaia z. Politik seiner Zeit. 

1907. Guthe, Jesaia, Religionsgeschichtliche Volksbiicher. 

1908. Baentsch, Prophetie und Weissagung. ZWTh, p. 457 ff. 

1908. Caspari, Echtheit, Hauptbegriff u. Gedankengang der Messia- 

nischen Weissagung. Is. 9 1 - 7 . 

1908. Oesterley, Evolution of the Messianic Idea. 

1908. Staerk, Das Assyrische Weltreich im Urtheil der Propheten. 

1908. Westphal, Jahweh’s Wohnstatten. 

1909. Herrmann, Der Messias aus Davids Geschlecht. ZWTh, p. 260 ff. 

1909. Kittel, Geschichte des Yolkes Israels. Bd. II, 2. Ausg. 

1910. Kennett, Composition of the Book of Isaiah. 

1910. Sellin, Einleitung in d. Alte Testament. 2. Aufl., 3. Aufl., 1920. 

1912. Sellin, Der Alttestamentliche Prophetismus. 

1914. Beer, Zur Zukunftserwartung Jesajas (Festschrift Wellhausen, 
pp. 15—35). 

1914. Buttenwieser, The Prophets of Israel. 

1914. Dittmann, Der lieilige Rest im A. T. STK. 

1914. Holscher, Die Propheten. 

1914. J. M. P. Smith, nitr ZATW, pp. 219—224. 

1914. Wellhausen, Israelitische u. Jiidische Geschichte. 7. Ausg., 
Nachdruck, 1919. 

1915. Konig, Geschichte der Alttestamentlichen Religion. 

1916. Duhm, Israels Propheten. 

1917. Louise B. Smith, The Messianic Ideal of Isaiah. JBL, 
pp. 158—172. 

1918. Mitchell, Isaiah on the Fate of his People and their Capital. 
JBL, p. 149 ff. 

1919. Sachsse, Die Propheten des A.T. und ihre Gegner. 

1920. Aytoun, The Rise and Fall of the Messianic Hope in the Sixth 
Century. JBL, pp. 24—43. 

1920. Feigin, The Meaning of Ariel. JBL, pp. 131—137. 

1920. Reisner, Discoveries in Ethiopia. Harvard Theological Review, 
pp. 23—44. 

To the above list 1 append the following articles of my own which 
have immediately to do with the subject: 

1905. A New Chapter in the Life of Isaiah. AJTh (Oct.). 

1906. The Invasion of Sennacherib. Bibliotheca Sacra, Oct. 

1907. Shebna and Eliakim. A Reply to Professor Konig. AJTh, July. 

1913. The Book of Isaiah. Harvard Theological Review, Oct. 

1916. Isaiah’s earliest Prophecy against Ephraim. AJSL, April. 


6 


JOURNAL OE BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


necessary to understand the strategy of the attack. Our study 
falls, therefore, into two main divisions, the presentation of the 
neo-critical thesis, and the presentation of the ‘archaeological’ 
antithesis. But within each of these two main divisions we dis¬ 
cover two subdivisions. The neo-critical school directs its attack 
from a common base of operations, namely the general position 
of criticism represented by Wellhausen’s Prolegomena. But it 
soon develops that there are two very different attacking columns, 
one led by Duhm and the other by Stade. The one champions 
the eschatological interpretation, the other the ethical and 
spiritual. The ‘archaeological’ school carries on its defense, if 
we may elaborate our military figure a little farther, by a 
flanking movement. It, too, occupies Wellhausen territory, but 
in the rear of the enemy, and it seeks to turn, very ingeniously, 
the tactics of the neo-critical forces against themselves. Sellin 
represents an independent unit within the defensive positions 
of the ‘archaeologists’. The struggle thus appears to be a sort 
of four-cornered one and presents much the same impression of 
confusion as the melee in which Jonathan and the Philistines 
were involved at the pass of Michmash, and which ‘melted away 
hither and thither’ before the eyes of Saul. 

Fortunately for our purposes there is a considerable acreage 
of what may be called neutral territory upon which the clashing 
forces have agreed to meet on equal terms. In the first place 
there is a fairly large amount of material which is admitted on 
all hands to be genuine. This material is found in the prophecies 
of doom. It is sufficient in amount to permit of reasonably 
secure conclusions as to Isaiah’s general style, and as to some 
of the ideas in which he was most profoundly interested. The 
doom prophecies, therefore, furnish invaluable criteria for the 

1916. Studies in Isaiah. JBL, pp. 134—142. 

1918. The Problem of Is. Chap. X. AJSL, April. 

1918. Immanuel. AJSL, July. 

1920. The Stone of the Foundation. AJSL, Oct. 

1921. The Problem of Isaiah. Journal of Religion, May. 

In what follows the above mentioned books and articles are usually 
referred to simply by the name of the author, except where a more 
precise reference to the particular work is necessary in order to avoid 
confusion. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


7 


discussion of the disputed prophecies. Again, the outlines of the 
larger historical background of Isaiah’s age are now, thanks to 
the monuments, fairly clear. Yet in two important particulars 
there is still, unfortunately, room for debate. The first of these 
concerns the year of Hezekiah’s accession, the second and more 
pressing question is: What really happened in 701? The first 
point bears upon the question: When did the pro-Assyrian policy 
of Ahaz change to the anti-Assyrian policy of Hezekiah, and 
that in turn upon the question of the circumstances under which 
Isaiah delivered a number of his threats. The problem of what 
happened in 701 is the central problem of Isaiah. Were Isaiah’s 
promises vindicated at that time, or his threats? This at once 
raises the question of the relationship of Isaiah’s hopes to his 
threats. 

' As I have brought out elsewhere, 5 there are four great 
doctrines in the first thirty-nine chapters which have been 
supposed to express Isaiah’s hopes for the future: the doctrines 
of the Day of the Lord, of the Remnant, of the Messianic King, 
and of the Inviolability of Zion. The first of these is allied more 
closely to the threats, the second hovers between the threats and 
the hopes, the last two are the great expressions of hope. The 
first two doctrines are unanimously admitted to be genuine ele¬ 
ments in Isaiah’s teaching. It must, therefore, be borne in mind 
in all that follows that the genuineness of one important element 
of hope, namely the doctrine of the Remnant, is conceded. It is 
around the question of the genuineness of the second pair of 
ideas that the battle has raged most fiercely. The doctrine of 
the Messianic King is found by the great majority of scholars 
in the two prophecies of the Wondrous Child and the Twig of 
Jesse, 6 and by some in the two Immanuel passages, 8 8 and 7 14. 
The doctrine of the inviolability of Zion is either expressed or 
implied in the great anti-Assyrian group of prophecies. 7 Our 

5 Harvard Theological Review, Oct., 1913. 

6 9 2-7 and 11 iff. 32 iff. and 33 17 need not be considered, as the 
specifically Messianic interpretation of these passages is now generally 
given up. 

7 The anti-Assyrian prophecies may be divided into three groups 

1) Those found in cc. 6—8 (the Syro-Ephraimitic prophecies), i. e. 8 9f. 


8 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


first task, therefore, is to trace the fortunes of these two groups 
of prophecies at the hands of the neo-critical school. 


PART I 

THE NEO-CRITICAL SCHOOL 

The gradual Elimination of the Messianic and anti-Assyrian 
Prophecies and the Concentration upon the ethical and spiritual 
Elements in the Teachings of Isaiah. 

I. Wellhausen, Smend, and Robertson Smith. 

In the earliest stage of the neo-critical development, the Mes¬ 
sianic and anti-Assyrian prophecies were accepted unquestion- 
ingly as genuine. This phase may be best represented by Well- 
hausen in his Prolegomena, and by his two disciples, Smend in 
Germany and Robertson Smith in England. 2 3 4 * * * 8 If a composite 
picture of the views of these scholars may be drawn, ignoring 
differences in detail, it would be something as follows. 1) The 
first and chiefest characteristic of eighth century prophecy is its 
supreme emphasis upon the doom of the nation. “Only you have 
I known out of all the families of the earth; therefore I will 

2) Those found in cc. 28—32 (the anti-Egyptian prophecies) 29 5-8; 
30 27-33 ; 315-9. 

3) Those independent of their contexts: 

a) Brief prophecies, 14 24-27; 17 12-14 (cf. 8 9 f.; 29 5 - 8 ) 

b) Longer prophecies: 10 5 - 34 ; c. 18; c. 33; 37 22 ff. (this last embedded 
in the Isaiah narratives). 

4) To these anti-Assyrian prophecies may be added certain others in 

which the inviolability of Zion has been supposed to be expressed 
or implied: 14 28-32; 28 ie; and c. 6; 8 18 in both of which the temple 

is prominent. It is important to notice that at 89 f.; 17 12-14; 295-8 
and in cc. 18 and 33 Assyria is not mentioned by name, and in all 

but c. 18 “many nations” or “all nations” or “peoples” appear in its 
place. In 14 24-27 “all nations” are mentioned along with Assyria. 
This subordinate group will be hereafter referred to as “the many- 
nations” group. 

8 See Prolegomena-, Smend, Lehrbuch der AT lichen Religionsgeschichte- 
and Smith, Prophets of Israel. 


FULLERTON I VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


9 


visit upon you all your iniquities.” 9 This threat of national 
destruction has for its major premise a rigorously ethical con¬ 
ception of Jahweh and for its minor premise the fact of the 
nation’s sin. The inevitable conclusion is national doom. 2) But 
such a conclusion is, in turn, the beginning of a new premise, 
namely, that religion must be dissociated from nationalism. A 
god who can destroy his own people in the interest of an ethical 
ideal is a god whose interests are not confined to his people. 
The religion of the prophets thus becomes incipiently universal- 
istic; monotheism begins to develop. A fundamentally ethical 
god and a fundamentally national god have nothing really in 
common. 10 3) Yet the judgment upon the nation is not an 
end in itself. It is only a means to an end. Beyond the 
judgment there is hope. But the circumstances in which the 
early prophets labored demanded warnings rather than comforts. 
Hence threats predominated in their prophecies over promises. 
4) But in what forms did hope express itself? In the case of 
Isaiah, principally in two forms: in the doctrine of the Messianic 
king and in the doctrine of the inviolability of Zion. 

A. Isaiah was the first prophet whom we know of to cherish 
the idea of a Davidic Messiah. As the breakdown of the 
monarchy during the Assyrian wars became steadily more 
obvious and more painfully felt, it was natural for the people 
to look back to the good old days of David and Solomon and 
to wish for their return. Is. 1 21 - 26 , though not referring 
specifically to the Messianic king, is fundamental to the Well- 
hausen interpretation. The Messianic hope takes on the historical 
character of a hope for a restored kingdom. The Messianic 
kingdom is to be the continuation of the old Davidic monarchy. 
“The kingdom of God is for Isaiah absolutely identical with the 
kingdom of David.” 11 The duties Isaiah ascribes to the Messiah 
are of political nature, such duties as one would demand today 
of the Turkish government. He is to give victory over the 
nation’s enemies and to administer justice. 12 Such a hope could 

9 Amos 3 2 . 

10 Cf. Smend, pp. 185, 193, 196, 199. 

11 Proleg. 434. Cf. R. Smith, 257, 302, 313. 

12 Proleg., 1. c.; Smend, 235, n. 2. 


10 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


have naturally arisen, it is claimed, only in the eighth century. 
It could not have arisen before the monarchy, because it was 
attached to the monarchy. It could not have arisen after the 
fall of the monarchy in the post-exilic period, for at that time 
the hopes of the future became detached from history. The 
condition of the people scattered in exile no longer suggested a 
continuity in the political life of the nation. The hopes for the 
future now took on an eschatological character. The miraculous 
entered in. Furthermore, the particular hope of a Messianic 
King was no longer cherished, because another ideal had taken 
its place. The idea of the theocracy had, by tliis time, largely 
supplanted the idea of the kingdom (cf. Deuteronomy and P.); 
the church-state had supplanted the state-church and nationalism 
had succumbed to ecclesiasticism. Hence the doctrine of the 
Messiah could scarcely have originated at that time. 13 But if 
this doctrine could not have originated before the monarchy had 
arisen or after its fall, and must have sprung up sometime 
during its existence, there was no time so favorable for its birth 
as the eighth century. The Messianic hope was the natural 
antithesis to the Assyrian disaster. 

In this construction four things stand out. (1) The rise of the 
Messianic hope is psychologically explained. The importance of 
this fact will appear hereafter. 14 (2) The Wellhausen view 
emphasizes the historical and ethical element in the Messianic 
figure. The supernatural is everywhere eliminated. Il6ff. is 
reduced to poetry and rhetoric. Continuity between the present 
and the future is insisted upon. The Messianic King is an ideal 
king, but the ideal is quite attainable. The charism which 
descends upon the Messiah (111 ff.) is not different from that 
which descended upon the ancient worthies except in its 
completeness and permanence. 15 “In his so-called Messianic 
prophecies Isaiah does not paint dream pictures of the future 
greatness and glory of his people for the realization of which 
there was not the smallest prospect, hut sets up a goal which is 
or should he attainable in the present. The strong and just king 

13 This argument was worked out especially by Wellhausen. Proleg. 439. 

14 See Part II. 

15 Smith, 304. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 11 


of David’s line in whose coming lie hopes has nothing shadowy 
about him, and nothing is attributed to him which passes beyond 
the range of possibility under the conditions existing in Judah 
at that time.” 16 This insistence upon the ethical and the historical 
in the figure of the Messiah is consistent with the emphasis upon 
these elements in the prophets generally, which is so character¬ 
istic of the neo-critical school; whether it is exegetically defensible 
in the case of 9 iff. and 11 iff. is another question. But at 
another point there is a latent discrepancy with the prophetic 
ideal. (3) How does the incipient breakdown of nationalism, 
due to the supreme place which ethics plays in prophecy, consist 
with the rehabilitation of nationalism involved in the Messianic 
hope? Smend is quite conscious of this difficulty. 17 He therefore 
holds that Isaiah’s Messianic hope is no integral part of his 
thinking, a merely passing phenomenon in his life. Smend even 
goes so far as to suggest that it could not have originated with 
Isaiah, but must have been earlier connected in some way with 
the popular formulation of the doctrine of the Day of the Lord 
as a day of victory over Israel’s enemies (Amos 5 is). 18 These 
observations of Smend will play an important part in what 
follows. (4) Lastly, it is rather significant that AYellhausen lays 
all his emphasis upon the view that the theocracy supplanted 
the nationalistic ideal in the post-exilic period, and ignores 
almost entirely the very striking Messianic movement under 
Zerubbabel. In treating of this movement he is concerned only 
with the importance of the temple in it. This leads us to our 
second point, the doctrine of the inviolability of Zion. 

is Well., Geschichte , 123. In his final edition of his history Well- 
liausen thus maintains the position originally adopted by him. 

17 “Under the pressure of the Assyrian domination and in sympathy 
with the misfortune that had overtaken Israel in 734, there arose in 
Isaiah a nationalistic feeling which appeared to have utterly died out 
when he prophesied the doom of Israel at an earlier time. Again, that 
the Messianic king should be a descendent of Jesse shows us that the 
expectation of his coming grows out of the Jewish nationalistic feeling 
of the prophet.” Smend, p. 232. 

is Smend, 233; 235. Kautzsch also suggests the possibility of some 
older prophecy underlying 2 Sam. 7, in which this hope is expressed 
(H. D. B. Extra Yol. p. 695). 


12 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


B. This doctrine we have found to be either expressed or 
implied in the anti-Assyrian prophecies which were accepted 
by all the early members of the neo-critical school with the 
exception of Stade. But why did Isaiah hold to the inviolability 
of Zion ? This was a difficult question. The inviolability of Zion 
would seem, at first sight, to imply its sanctity in the cult sense. 
But this would not harmonize with Isaiah’s known antipathy to 
the cult (lioff.; 29i3ff.), or with the supreme emphasis upon 
ethics in the prophetic message. Accordingly we find various 
answers, all intended to avoid the cult implications of the 
doctrine of inviolability. Zion, it is claimed, has no significance 
for Isaiah as a cult centre, but only as the seat of Jahweh’s 
kingship. It is not thought of as his altar-hearth, but as his 
throne. 19 But would such a distinction ever occur to an ancient, 
even to an ancient prophet? Where does a deity manifest him¬ 
self, where does he dwell, if not at the sanctuary ? Isaiah, him¬ 
self, saw Jahweh in the temple (c. 6). It is at this point, if 
anywhere, that the Wellhausen view exposes itself most clearly 
to the charge of modernizing the prophet. And further, does the 
inference of the inviolability of Zion as naturally flow from the 
idea of Zion as Jahweh’s throne as it does from the idea of 
Zion as Jahweh’s altar? The thought of inviolability almost 
inevitably suggests the thought of sacrilege rather than the 
thought of lese majeste , and sacrilege suggests the cult signi¬ 
ficance of Zion. It is because these scholars feel this difficulty 
that they resort to another reason to account for the inviolabil¬ 
ity of Zion? It is connected by them with the doctrine of the 
Remnant, in the very characteristic form of that doctrine 
current in the neo-critical school. The idea of the Remnant, 
like the idea of the Messianic kingdom, is historicised and 

19 cr\y e mus t not forget that the importance of Jerusalem in Isaiah’s 
view did not depend upon the temple of Solomon, but on the fact that 
it was David’s city and the focal point of his kingdom, the centre, not 
of the cult, but of the reign of Jahweh over his people. The holy mountain 
was for him the whole city as a political commonwealth, with its citizens, 
advisers, judges (1 26 ). [Note that its priests are not referred to!] His 
faith in the immovable foundation stone (28 16 ) on which Zion stood was 
nothing but a faith in the living presence of Jahweh in Israel’s camp.” 
{Proleg ., 25; for the same view see Smith, 361.) 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 13 


moralized. The Remnant is the means by which continuity 
between the present and the future is established. It is the link 
between the two. It is a flesh and blood reality in history; it 
has a local habitation and a name. In essence it is the prophetic 
party, which began to form originally around Isaiah in the 
person of his immediate followers, gradually became con¬ 
solidated into the Reform party, and ultimately put through 
the Deuteronomic law . 20 

But now the question would arise in Isaiah’s mind, how is 
this Remnant upon whom his hopes became centered to be saved 
in the approaching national disaster? The way of escape is 
found in the preservation of Zion. Secure in an inviolable Zion, 
the Remnant is able to weather the storm. 21 In this way the 
doctrine of the inviolability of Zion, which can so easily be 
interpreted in the non-moral terms of a taboo, also becomes 
moralized, and we arrive at a consistent interpretation of the 
Messiah, the Remnant, and the Inviolability of Zion, which 
emphasizes in each case the ethical and spiritual elements and 
tones down or entirely ignores the cult elements and the super¬ 
natural. But is this explanation of the doctrine of Zion’s in¬ 
violability quite convincing? In general the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies either simply assume that Zion is inviolable, without 
giving any reason for it, or actually express the thought of its 
cult sanctity, as at 29 5-8; 31 9; 18 7. The view that it is to be 
preserved in order to afford a refuge to the Remnant is a pure 
construction of these scholars. 22 


20 See Well., Geschichte , 123 ff.; Smend, 229 (“The Remnant was not 
an object of hope”); Smith, 275. The main reliance of these scholars for 
this conception of the Remnant is 8 11 - 18 , and, indeed, the passage is of 
supreme importance. 

21 “The sanctity of Zion rests at bottom, in Isaiah’s view, only on the 
fact that in this place is the community of Jahweh” (Smend, 230). 
“Because the community of Jahweh [the Remnant] is indestructible, the 
state of Judah and the kingdom of the house of David cannot be utterly 
overthrown. The capital and the court appeared to him as the natural 
centre of the true Remnant” (Smith, 259; 289; cf. 263). This theory is 
worked out most fully in Meinhold’s Der heilige Rest. 

22 The only two texts in Isaiah which by any possibility could be 
interpreted to express such a thought are 14 32 and 28 16 . The first of 


14 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


It is interesting, also, to observe that Smith is not quite 
satisfied with this explanation and suggests that the doctrine of 
inviolability is connected with Isaiah’s nationalism. Isaiah simply 
could not believe that the state or its capital would fall. “The 
sphere of Jehovah’s purpose and the kingdom of Judah are 
identical.” 23 This means that the nation can no more be 
destroyed than can Jahweh’s purposes be thwarted. But if 
Isaiah could not emancipate himself from a nationalistic inter¬ 
pretation of religion, is it so certain that he could rid himself of 
the idea of the ceremonial sanctity of Zion? When state and 
religion are one, the only way in which a national religion can 
express itself is through some sort of a ceremonial. If we run 
back the doctrine of inviolability to nationalism, it is, indeed, 
difficult to avoid the connotation of ceremonial sanctity. If, on 
the other hand, Isaiah does abandon the idea of ceremonial 
sanctity, and there seems to be very strong reason to hold that 
he did, is it not possible that he may have abandoned the 
nationalistic conception of religion with which the temple cult 
is so closely connected? In that case, did he, after all, teach 
the doctrine of inviolability? We have already seen how Smend 
felt the latent disagreement between the nationalistic doctrine of 
the Messianic King and the incipient breakdown of nationalism 
in the prophetic theology. We now seem to have uncovered, in 
the doctrine of the inviolability of Zion, another disagreement 
of the same sort. Both doctrines, but particularly the latter one, 
present difficulties in the way of the Wellhausen moralizing 
interpretation of Isaiah, provided they are genuine elements in 
the prophet’s teaching. This leads to the work of Duhm and 
Stade. 

these expresses the thought that the Remnant (the poor and the afflicted) 
are saved because Zion is inviolable in itself, rather than the thought 
that Zion is inviolable because of the Remnant. I waive the question of 
the genuiness of 14 28-32; but see Duhm and especially Buttenwieser, 
JBL, 1917, p. 240 ff. The attempt to discover a Remnant at 28 16 (see, 
especially, Meinhold, Der Rest, p. 133 ff.) is labor wasted (see the author’s 
article on The Stone of the Foundation). 

23 Smith, 263 f. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 15 


II. Duhm and Stade. 

A. Dulim. 

The significance of Duhm’s work lies, first, in his peculiar 
interpretation of the teachings of Isaiah, the man, and, secondly, 
in liis theory of the revision of Isaiah, the book. 24 1) Duhm’s 
interpretation of Isaiah’s teachings is the exact reverse of the 
Wellliausen interpretation. Wellliausen lays all the emphasis 
upon the historical and the ethical, Duhm upon the supernatural, 
the religious. Wellhausen emphasizes the idea of continuity 
between the present and the future. The future is only an 
idealized present. Duhm insists upon the idea of discontinuity 
between them. He tells us expressly that Isaiah’s “hope of the 
future is not in the idealization of the present”. 25 Isaiah did, 
indeed, have the ethical interests which the other great eighth- 
century prophets had; these were expressed in his prophecies 
of woe. But his originality did not lie in them. It lay in his 
hopes; and these hopes are religious as distinct from ethical, 
super naturalistic as distinct from historical. In other words, 
Isaiah’s importance lies in the fact that he is the creator of 
eschatology . 26 The main proof of this thesis is found in the 
Messianic and anti-Assyrian prophecies, a) The Messiah is not 
a merely human king, he is a miraculous figure. His enduement 
by the spirit (11 1 f.) is a miraculous charism. The spirit does 
not become the spirit of the king, that would be an ethical con¬ 
ception; it remains Jahweh’s spirit, that is a religious and 
supernatural idea. 11 3 does not refer to the ability to judge 
impartially, that again would be ethical; it refers to immediate 
intuition, due to the supernatural charism. The peace of nature 
in 11 6-8 is not a mere play of fancy, not allegory, not even 
symbol. It represents a real hope. It is to be noted that Duhm 

24 See his Theologie der Propheten, his great Commentary , and Israel's 
Propheten , 1916. Duhm’s criticism went through a considerable evolution 
in these works, but his interpretation, curiously enough, remained practic¬ 
ally the same. 

25 Theologie , 167. 

26 See, especially, his remarks at 117, and the additional statements 
in ed. 3 at 18 4 . 


16 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


carefully avoids the word ‘mythological’ in his interpretation of 
vs. 6-8, though he is impressed with the non-Semitic character 
of the passage. Again, the child of 9 1-6 is surrounded with an 
atmosphere of marvel. He belongs to the eschatological wonder- 
world after the judgment. All this is the exact reverse of Well- 
hausen’s position. It may he noted in passing that the Well- 
liausen interpretation of the Remnant is also denied by Duhm. 
The Remnant is no longer the link between the present and the 
future. It, too, belongs to the eschatological era. Isaiah does 
not appear at the head of a prophetic reform party. “In the 
new creation he has no share because he is only a man. As any 
other man, he can only wait for it with faith and longing. It is 
an absolute miracle of Jahweh, and from it all human cooperation 
is jealously excluded.” 27 b) But the most remarkable proof of 
Isaiah’s fondness for the supernatural is found in the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies. The struggle with Assyria takes on the 
character of a mighty duel between Jahweh and this arrogant 
world power. “In an instant, suddenly (29 5), when apparently 
just about to accomplish its designs, Assyria is struck down by 
Jahweh.” The conception is that of the deas ex machina. “The 
emphasis upon the suddenness corresponds to the tendency of 
Isaiah’s politics and eschatology as a whole; not the smallest 
part of the victory must be ascribed to the people. Jahweh alone 
shall be exalted in that day.” 28 Perhaps the most characteristic 
expressions of this thought are found in c. 10 and in the Ariel 
prophecy 29 l—8, the last verses of which compare the vanishing 
of the enemy to the vanishing of a dream. This last passage in 
its original form is said to be written mit echtjesaianischem 
Schwung und Feiier. Accordingly, Duhm views the attempts to 
interpret Isaiah along the Wellhausen-Smend-Smith lines as 
illegitimate attempts to modernize him. It must be admitted 

27 See the remarks on c. 6. The passage is considerably toned down 
in the 3rd ed. The same idea is still expressed, though more cautiously, 
in Israels Proplieten , 202. The failure to give an adequate analysis of 
the Remnant idea in any of Duhm’s work on Isaiah is very striking. 
In keeping with this is the slight attention paid to Is. 8 i6-is. The 
passage is not even mentioned in the Theologie. 

28 See remarks at 29 i-8. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 17 


that if the Messianic and anti-Assyrian groups are accepted in 
their present forms as genuine, this criticism of Duhm is correct. 
Duhm’s exegesis of these prophecies does far more justice to 
their peculiar features than Wellhausen’s. This is particularly 
true in the case of cc. 28—32, where the abrupt transitions from 
doom to hope lend themselves very naturally to Duhm’s con¬ 
ception of a sudden, miraculous deliverance. But at this point 
we arrive at the second great contribution which Duhm’s 
commentary has to give. 

2 ) While in his Theologie Duhm still accepts only the results 
of the stage of criticism represented by Ewald, in his Commentary 
he subjects the first thirty-nine chapters of Isaiah to the most 
thorough-going criticism to which they had as yet been exposed. 
The results are astonishing. Never before had the extent of the 
revision been so clearly seen, never before had its purpose been 
so clearly recognized. For the first time we have in Duhm’s 
commentary a thought-through theory of the revision of Isaiah. 29 
Duhm advances what may be called a fragmentary hypothesis 
of Isaiah. The book is a prophetic anthology. The connections 
between the various fragments are for the most part artificial 
and due to revision, 30 and particularly glaring instances of them 
are now found in cc. 28—32, the very chapters upon which 
Duhm had specially relied in his Theologie to prove the ab¬ 
ruptness and hence the miraculousness of the transition from 
despair to deliverance. The revision was, for the most part, 
made in the late post-exilic period and in the interest of late 
Jewish eschatology. The original prophecies of Isaiah are thus 
set in a great eschatological framework. 

But the supposition that Isaiah, the man, was the creator of 
eschatology on the one hand, and that Isaiah, the book, has been 
subjected to a late eschatological redaction on the other, creates 

29 Stade had already suggested the outlines of such a revision, ZA.TW, 
1881, p. 170ff.; 1883, p. 3; and in his Geschichte , I. p. 186, n. 1, but Duhm 
was the first systematically to apply Stade’s principles to Isaiah. Cornill’s 
theory of revision (ZATW, 1884, p. 83 ff.), which combines a principle of 
chronological arrangement with a principle of catch-words, is by no 
means adequate. 

30 In the delimitation of the fragments Duhm’s theories of Hebrew 
poetry play a large part. 


2 


18 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


a rather delicate problem. How is the early eschatology ol the 
original prophecies to be distinguished from the late eschatology 
of the redaction? Of course it is easy to say that Isaiah’s 
eschatology represents the seed and the later eschatology the 
full-blown flower. But in the realm of ideas this distinction is 
not always so easy to make. What Duhm fails to do is to provide 
us with adequate criteria in all cases for making the nice dis¬ 
tinctions necessary. When Duhm tells us that the eschatology 
of Isaiah is fluid and the later eschatology has hardened into 
dogma, this is only the prose interpretation of the seed and 
flower metaphor. 31 But this gets us nowhere. In what respect 
are 10 12 and 14.32 allusions to accepted dogmas, while 29 5-8 
and 319 are not? 32 As a matter of fact, I get the impression 
from Duhm’s criticism that he trusts largely to style and poetic 
power in making his decisions. On this basis alone he might 
very well reject such slovenly and opaque prophecies as 29 16-24 
or c. 4 and accept such forcible fragments as 8 9f. or 17 12 - 1 4. 
But, though the presence of a bad style, when one is dealing 
with such a master stylist as Isaiah, may he confidently accepted 
as a mark of spuriousness, 33 it by no means follows that the 
presence of a good style within cc. 1—39 is necessarily the mark 
of genuineness. Later authors were quite capable of writing with 
force and even with grandeur. 34 After all, from the point of view 
of the critical school one must fall back finally upon the all- 
important criterion of ideas, and in idea are the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies so different from the later eschatological prophecies 
as to enable us to affirm with confidence that the former are 
seed and the latter are flower? 

At this point a very disturbing admission by Duhm is 
encountered. We have seen how, in the case of the Messianic 

3 * See his remarks at 10 12 ; 29i6ff.; 30 18 . 

32 Attention was called to this difficulty in Duhm’s position already 
in 1913, Harvard Theol. Rev., p. 492. It is of sufficient importance, I 
think, to be worth repeating. 

33 Of course, a good style may at times become splotched with corruptions 
of the text (see c. 2), but in general it is not so difficult to distinguish 
between a passage that has become opaque for this reason and a passage 
that is opaque because there is an opaque mind behind it. 

34 Compare c. 14 for example. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 19 


prophecies, Smend admits a lack of connection between them 
and Isaiah’s most fundamental convictions, and how, in the case 
of the anti-Assyrian prophecies, the same lack of connection is 
seen in Smith’s interpretations, though Smith himself does his 
best to avoid this admission. What is our surprise to find Duhm 
cheerfully conceding both groups of prophecies to he fundament¬ 
ally out of touch with Isaiah’s great sermons of doom. The main 
interest in the prophecies of doom is ethical; the main interest 
in the eschatological prophecies is religious. The former come 
with divine authority, a “thus saith the Lord”; the latter are 
Isaiah’s own private affair! This view-point, which meets us 
already in the Theologie , 35 is maintained by Duhm, with only 
slight modifications, in the three editions of his Commentary and 
in his Israel’s Propheten. In all three works the Messianic 
picture in cc. 9, 11 and 2 2-4 are treated as poetry rather than 
as prophecy, originally written, not spoken; not designed for the 
people, hut for the heart of the poet himself and for his immedi¬ 
ate followers. 36 It is quite in keeping with this theory to find 
that Duhm refuses to explain the figure of the Davidic Messiah 
in chapters 9 and 11 out of the internal or external conditions 
in Judah. It springs out of Isaiah’s own thoughts and character 
and experiences. Duhm suggests that Isaiah’s nearness to the 
court and his respect for the royal prerogatives, as seen in the 
Shebna prophecy, might account in part for the rise of the hope 
in a Davidic Messiah! 37 

35 The passage is so important that I cite it in full. It is the opening 
paragraph of the section on Isaiah’s eschatology. “Though directly attached 
to the immediately prophetic discourses, to those, namely, which are 
concerned with the present people and present conditions, the discussions 
more especially of the future glory appear to be quite independent of 
them. Through the omission of the formula, “Thus saith the Lord”, these 
[oracles] permit us to see that the prophet speaks more on his own 
authority and for his own benefit, and does not intend to give his free 
expressions the authority which belongs to the word of Jahweh... It is 
important to observe that the predictions of Isaiah [Duhm has in mind 
particularly the Messianic passages] are his own private affair and have 
no divine authority for others” (p. 158). 

33 Cf. Israel's Propheten , p. 179. 

37 Israel's Propheten , 186. He does not discuss the origin of the con¬ 
ception either in the Theologie or the Commentary. 

2* 


20 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Here is a singular situation! The importance of Isaiah is 
found in the fact that he is the creator of eschatology, and yet 
this eschatology is almost completely out of touch with his 
prophetic activity and with the great ethical interests which 
seem to have controlled him as a prophet. Our surprise is not 
lessened when we find Duhm pointing out both in the Theologie 
and in the Commentary that this same material, which is so 
little related to Isaiah’s prophetic interests, is very closely related 
to Ezekiel and Deutero-Zechariah! Zechariah we are told “has 
the same heart-felt interest in miracle as Isaiah did.” 38 In view 
of what may fairly be called the unstable equilibrium of Duhm’s 
interpretation and criticism, the work which had been earlier 
initiated by Stade gains a new significance. 39 

B. Stade. 

Stade’s importance in the history of Isaiah-interpretation lies 
mainly in two things: his criticism of the Isaiah narratives, 40 and 
his criticism of the anti-Assyrian prophecies. 1) For the first 
time he subjected the Isaiah narratives to a rigorous criticism 
and showed that only the abbreviated annalistic notice in 
2 K. 18 13-16 can lay claim to strict historical accuracy. The 
other two accounts which he unravelled out of the present 
compilatory tangle were regarded as legendary, and the anti- 
Assyrian poem attached to them (37 22 ff.) and agreeing with 
their point of view was rejected. 41 This conclusion was ominous 
for the future. Here was the only anti-Assyrian poem in Isaiah 
which seemed to he organically connected with a datable event 
(the campaign of Sennacherib) now regarded as spurious. 

2) Equally disturbing was Stade’s attack upon certain other 
anti-Assyrian prophecies. The point of view from which this 
attack was launched should be noticed. In determining the 

38 Theologie, p. 277; cf. p. 211. Compare also remarks in Comm, at 
31 9 , and the new passage in ed. 3 at c. 18, p. 114, and especially the 
change in ed. 3 at 29 5 - 8 , p. 183. 

39 See his articles in the debate on Deutero-Zechariah in ZATW, 
1881—’84, and Geschichte des Volkes Israel, 1881—’85, passim. 

40 Cc. 36, 37, cf. 2 K. 18 is-19 37 . 

41 GVI, p. 617 ff.; ZATW, 1886, p. 173 ff. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 21 


genuineness of a prophecy the criterion of ideas was pushed to 
the front. If an idea appeared in one passage in a self-explanatory 
context and in another passage in an unorganized and unintellig¬ 
ible way, the priority must be with the self-explanatory passage. 42 
Now the Grog prophecy in Ezekiel has been admitted on all 
hands to be a characteristic prophecy of Ezekiel and an integral 
part of his system of thought. It is a ‘child of Ezekiel’s reflection’, 
to use a famous phrase of Smend. According to this prophecy, 
Gog marches at the head of “many peoples”, mysterious hordes 
from the north, to attack the Holy Land in one last mighty 
effort to crush the people of God. But Jahweh’s power and 
holiness are brilliantly vindicated in Gog’s complete overthrow. 
Upon the mountains of Palestine his armies meet destruction, a 
sure proof that Jahweh’s hand has accomplished it. But within 
the anti-Assyrian prophecies there is a small group, the “many- 
nations” passages (8 9 f.; 17 12 - 14 ; 29 5-8, and cf. 14 24-27 where 
“all nations” as well as Assyria are referred to), in which the 
same motif is found as in the Gog prophecy and expressed in 
much the same way. Here are many mysterious, unnamed 
peoples arrogantly combining against Judah but ultimately over¬ 
whelmed by Jahweh’s power. Now, whereas the Gog prophecy 
is in the most intimate relation with Ezekiel’s theological views, 
the “many-nations” passages, it is claimed, are out of harmony 
with Isaiah’s views. The universalism implied in them is too 
advanced for eighth-century prophecy. But apart from this 
argument, which is not entirely convincing, the fact remains that 
these three brief prophecies are in fundamental disagreement 
with their contexts. In accordance with Stade’s method it would 
seem reasonable to conclude that the motif in these prophecies 
originated with Ezekiel, and that the “many-nations” passages 
were incorporated into Isaiah after the time of Ezekiel. 43 This 
conclusion would also agree with one of the most celebrated 
dicta of Wellhausen. “Earlier”, he tells us, i. e. in the preexilic 
period, “it w T as always an enemy already threatening in the 
background, a danger actually approaching; after the exile, 
fancy created a general conspiracy of God knows what people 

42 ZATW, 1881, p. 10 ff. 

43 ZATW, 1883, pp. 1—16; 1884, p. 260 n. 1. 


22 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


against Jerusalem, for which in reality there was no occasion. 
Prophecy lost its connection with history and its foundation in 
history”. 44 This statement would seem to fit exactly the “many- 
nations” passages in Isaiah. But may we not take one more 
step? The same motif is found in the other anti-Assyrian 
passages as well as in the “many-nations” group. It is interesting 
to observe how Robertson Smith characterizes Is. 10 in almost 
exactly the same language as Stade and Smend characterize 
Ezek. 38 and 39. 46 In both Jahweh’s honor is at stake; in both 
the destruction of Assyria or Gog is necessary to the vindication 
of his honor. But in one particular c. 10 and certain others of 
the anti-Assyrian group differ from the Gog prophecy. They 
are expressly anti -Assyrian. They seem to oppose the historical 
nation, Assyria. The relationship of the anti-Assyrian prophecies 
in Isaiah to the Gog prophecy would then seem to be a good 
example of the seed and flower theory. The Isaianic prophecies 
could naturally be accounted for as originating in the great 
Assyrian crisis, an historical crisis. Ezekiel would take up the 
motif of the Assyrian prophecies and theologize or rather 
mythologize it. Unfortunately, the problem is not quite so easy 
of solution as that. Is Assyria in these anti-Assyrian prophecies 
always the historical Empire of the Tigris? At 14 24 - 27 , a 
prophecy very much like the “many-nations” prophecies in style 
and temper, and in addition referring to the destruction of the 
enemy on the mountains of Palestine (cf. the Gog prophecy), 
Stade himself identifies Assyria with the Seleucid power. 46 But 
if this can he done in one case, why not in another? The question 
arises: When is Assyria not Assyria? When once the “many- 
nations” passages have been rejected, the fat is in the fire so 
far as the group of anti-Assyrian prophecies is concerned. It is 
impossible to prevent the question of their genuineness being 
seriously raised and discussed. 47 

44 Proleg. 433. 

45 Smith, pp. 297—300, 333, 336; Smend, Ezechiel, at cc. 38, 39; 
Stade, ZATW, 1881, p. 44. 

46 ZATW, 1882, p. 291 f.; Dulim makes the same identification at 
10 24; 11 n, and 19 23 . 

47 Stade also rejected the Messianic passages, 9 i-c and c. 11 (see GVI 


FULLERTON*. VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 23 


Thus far I have sought to show 1) how Wellhausen, Smend, 
Smith and Dulmi accepted the genuineness of the Messianic and 
anti-Assyrian groups of prophecies, and how two very divergent 
theories of the significance of Isaiah were based upon them; in 
one case all the emphasis was laid upon the historical and ethical, 
in the other upon the eschatological and the supernatural; 
2 ) how, in the ethical interpretation, latent contradictions were 
discovered between the nationalism of Isaiah’s eschatology and 
the fundamental conceptions of prophecy, and how, in the 
eschatological interpretation, all links betwenIsaiah’s eschatology, 
which had a literary origin, and his prophecy, which was expressed 
in his spoken sermons, were practically destroyed; 3) how, in 
the third place, Duhm showed that the present book of Isaiah 
is a prophetic anthology compiled during the late post-exilic 
period in an eschatological interest, and how it became at times 
very difficult to distinguish the original eschatology of Isaiah 
from the eschatology of the redaction, and 4) how, in the case 
of the anti-Assyrian prophecies in particular, Stade established 
the closest connection between them and the peculiar views of 
Ezekiel. It is evident that the theory of a post-exilic eschatol¬ 
ogical redaction is entering into the problem of the genuineness 
of the Messianic and anti-Assyrian prophecies in a most dis¬ 
concerting way. If it could once be shown that the groups of 
prophecies in question can not be adequately related to those 
prophecies of woe which are unanimously accepted, and can not 
be explained out of Isaiah’s ministry, it would immediately follow 
that they must belong to this redaction. Hitherto only the more 
general discrepancies between these prophecies and Isaiah’s 
fundamental ideas have been pointed out. It will be next in 
order to examine them more in detail in the light of the 
circumstances of Isaiah’s day and of the purposes of his 
ministry. 


vol. I, 596 n. 2, and vol. II. 209 ff.). But as he did not develop his 
argument against them, his hints at first made little impression. Not so 
his attack upon cc. 32 and 33 (ZATW, 1884, pp. 256—271). This was a 
powerful one. It so shook confidence in c. 33 that few have since dared 
to defend it; and c. 32, when accepted at all, has been accepted only with 
the greatest caution. 


24 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


III. Attempts to Relate Isaiah’s Hopes to his Threats. 

In what follows I can select only the most outstanding problems 
presented by the prophecies of hope and treat them in the most 
general way. 


A. The Messianic Group. 

The first problem concerns the date and position of the 
Messianic prophecies in the life and teachings of Isaiah, provided 
they are accepted as genuine. So long as 6 i-9 6 is regarded as 
an organically constructed section, and Immanuel at 7 u and 
8 8 is identified with the Messiah, it follows that the doctrine 
of the Messiah was entertained at an early stage in Isaiah’s 
career, for this section is definitely located at the Syro- 
Ephraimitic crisis in 735/734. But did Isaiah teach this doctrine 
later? The answer to this question depends upon the date of 
c. 11. The date of c. 11 was supposed to depend, in turn, upon 
the date of the foremost anti-Assyrian prophecy, c. 10, with 
which c. 11 appears to be connected. If, now, c. 10 is placed 
in the Sennacherib period, and that at first sight seems to be 
the most natural place to put it, it follows that c. 11 belongs to 
that period also. In that case Isaiah taught the doctrine of the 
Messiah at the end of his life as well as at the beginning. 48 But 
if c. 10 is placed in the Sargon period, as many scholars have 
held, 49 and c. 11 is still connected with it, then it follows that in 
the Sennacherib period, which is generally regarded as the 
climax of the prophet’s career, the doctrine of the Messiah 
played no part. This is curious. But was c. 11 originally 
connected with c. 10? Guthe denied it, 50 and the work of Duhm 
confirmed his view. 51 But if c. 11 is cast loose from its present 

48 This is the view of Ewald. I omit, again, any consideration of 32 l ff. 
and 33 17 , for the reason that both dating and interpretation of these 
passages are extremely doubtful. The case for the genuineness of the 
doctrine of the Messiah in Isaiah depends upon the acceptance of 9 i-g 
and c. 11. 

49 See It. Smith, and Cheyne in his commentary. 

50 See his Zukunftsbild des Jesaia. 

51 I think nothing is surer in the criticism of Isaiah than that 10 33 , 34 
are due to the later eschatological revision. The antithesis, therefore, 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 25 


moorings, where is it to find a new anchorage? Guthe answered, 
at 9 1 - 6 , the prophecy most closely akin to it. The result is to 
locate all the Messianic prophecies early, in 735/734. But how, 
then, is the disappearance of the Messiah in the later periods 
to he accounted for? According to Robertson Smith the doctrine 
of the Messianic King originated in the Syro-Ephraimitic period 
as an antithesis to the wicked Ahaz. The doctrine was still 
cherished as late as the Sargon period in Hezekiah’s reign, for 
in his earlier years Hezekiah was not so good as he is generally 
supposed to be. But when Hezekiah repented in the Sennacherib 
campaign, it was not so necessary to rely upon a Messiah. The 
Messiah being only an ideally human king (the Wellhausen inter¬ 
pretation), Isaiah was able to emphasize the glorious reign of 
Jahweh, himself, through his historical representative, Hezekiah, 
now turned from his evil ways. In other words, the Messiah 
becomes so humanized by Smith along the Wellhausen lines that 
the rule of a good human king, even though he has just been 
converted, makes him superfluous. Guthe, on the contrary, 
adopts the eschatological interpretation of the Messiah in 
cc. 6—9. In 735 the situation was so bad that Isaiah was unable 
to hope for deliverance except through the miraculous intervention 
of an eschatological Messiah (again set in antithesis to Ahaz). 
But later the situation became improved in the reign of the good 
king Hezekiah (good all through his reign). Jerusalem was now 
practically identified with the Remnant, or at least the Remnant, 
as the reformed party, was located in Jerusalem. Consequently, 
when danger threatened from Assyria, Isaiah’s view changed. 
He no longer expected a miraculous deliverance, hut an historical 
one. The doctrine of the inviolability of Zion, interpreted in the 
interest of historical continuity (Wellhausen), took the place of 
the Messiah eschatologically interpreted. 52 This theory of Guthe 
is followed by Giesebrecht 53 and Procksch. 54 The latter introduces 

which seems now to exist between the felled Assyrian forest and the 
twig of Jesse is not an original antithesis, but an artificially created 
one. I cannot feel that Miss Smith (JBL 1917, p. 167 f.) has succeeded 
in disproving this critical result. 

52 Zukunftsbild , p. 12ff. 53 Beitrdge, p. 76 ff. 

54 Geschichtsbetrachtung , 38, n. 1; 43, n. 1. 


26 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


an interesting variation. He recognizes that the Messianic idea 
is essentially nationalistic. Therefore, when the great doctrine 
of faith, Isaiah’s supreme acquisition in 735, had been given 
time logically to work itself out, and when a non-nationalistic 
interpretation of the Remnant had dawned on him, the more 
nationalistic doctrine of the Messiah gradually faded away. But 
Procksch sees that the doctrine of the inviolability of Zion, which 
takes the place of the doctrine of the Messiah, has its own 
nationalistic limitations. He therefore seeks to spiritualize the 
latter doctrine. It does not grow out of a conception of Zion as 
a cult centre, or as a royal city, but rather as the seat of God’s 
spiritual presence, to be apprehended by faith alone (28 16 ). 55 
The artificiality of all these expedients is obvious, and their 
forced character betrays the difficulties of the problem. 

Duhm strikes out on a different path, but on a very danger¬ 
ous one. The identification of Immanuel with the Messiah at 7 14 
is rightly denied, 50 and the Immanuel of 8 8, 10 is dislodged by 
a text-critical process. With these two anchors gone, Duhm is 
prepared to take the next step and disconnect 9 l—6 altogether 
from the Syro-Ephraimitic prophecies. 57 The consequence is that 
the only two prophecies, 9 1-6 and c. 11, the Messianic inter¬ 
pretation of which is secure, are cast completely adrift. They 

55 p. 58 ff. 

50 See Porter’s article JBL 1895, and my article in AJSL July, 1918, 
which seek to confirm, along a different line, the non-Messianic character 
of Immanuel. 

57 The Syro-Ephraimitic projdiecies come to an appropriate and 
effective conclusion in the epilogue, 8 16 - 18 . What follows in vs. 19 - 22 , 
whatever it may mean, has nothing to do with the subject of cc. 6—8. 

8 23 is altogether too uncertain to furnish a reliable connection between 

9 1-6 and the historical situation. It is a gloss to connect 9 1 with 8 19 - 22 . 
There is also another reason why 9 1-6 cannot have originally been 
connected with the Syro-Ephraimitic prophecies. The only adequate reason 
which has ever been offered for the present position of c. 6 is that it was 
placed here by Isaiah himself as an introduction to the account of the 
events in 735 recorded in cc. 7 and 8, in order to explain the failure of 
Isaiah at that time to carry through his policies. In that case it would 
be most unlikely for him to end his account of the events of this crisis 
with a passage, 9 1 - 6 , which robs the introduction (c. 6), which he himself 
had provided, of all its point. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 27 


cannot be connected with any known fact or period of Isaiah’s 
life. Dulim evidently feels this difficulty. He attempts to find a 
place for 9 1-6 in the midst of the Sennacherib campaign, 68 but 
he pushes c. 11 and 2 2-4, which is closely akin to it, to a time 
after this campaign at the end of Isaiah’s life. These prophecies 
are supposed to be Isaiah’s swan-songs, the yearnings of an old 
man. They were not prepared for a public audience, but for the 
inner circle of his followers. This is in accordance with Duhm’s 
theory that Isaiah’s eschatological poems have nothing to do 
with his prophetic career. 69 We see, now, what this boils down 
to. Because no place can be found for them in that part of 
Isaiah’s life which we know something about, they are trans¬ 
ferred to that period of his life which we know nothing about. 60 
But if we have to go to the very edge of Isaiah’s life to find 
a place for these prophecies, why may we not step over the edge 
altogether and look for them in a situation in which they can 
be explained more satisfactorily? Granted that the origin of the 
Messianic prophecies might be explained, as Wellhausen ex¬ 
plained it, out of the general situation in Isaiah’s day, yet when 
they are examined in the light of Isaiah's other teaching and 
of his prophetic career, a serious doubt arises whether they 
originated with him. 

B. The Anti-Assyrian Group. 

We have seen how certain scholars have held that the doctrine 
of the inviolability of Zion gradually supplanted the doctrine of 
the Messiah in the latter part of Isaiah’s life. This means that 


58 His only argument is that v. 3 must refer to Assyria and v. 4 to 
the army of Sennacherib. Why? 

59 See above, n. 35. 

80 It would have been well if 9 i-6 had been placed with c. 11 and 2 2-4. 
In my article on A New Chapter in the Life of Isaiah, I have suggested 
that some light may be thrown upon the closing days of Isaiah by the 
Shebna prophecy, but even if the suggestions there given were accepted, 
they would furnish no explanation of these Messianic prophecies in this 
late period. Staerk (Das Assyrische Weltreich , p. 216 f.), gives up the 
attempt to date the Messianic prophecies more precisely or to constitute 
a development in them. 


28 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


the anti-Assyrian prophecies, in which this doctrine finds ex¬ 
pression, are pushed down into this later period. Is this admiss¬ 
ible? Can we find an intelligible place for them either here or 
anywhere else in Isaiah’s life? If this cannot be done, then, of 
course, the close connection established between this group of 
prophecies and Ezekiel’s theology becomes doubly significant. 
In the criticism of the anti-Assyrian prophecies there are three 
crucial questions: 1) The historicity of the Isaiah narratives; 
2) the date of c. 10; and, more important than this; 3) the date 
and integrity of the anti-Egyptian prophecies cc. 28—33. ei The 
first of these questions has already been treated. We are now 
to consider the second and third. 

1) So far as c. 10 is concerned, wherever it goes the remaining 
anti-Assyrian prophecies usually follow. The date of c. 10 is 
therefore a controlling date for the group as a whole. But in 
what period is it to be located? This prophecy has been variously 
dated, at or about the time of Samaria’s fall, 722, 02 about 711 
(Sargon’s campaign against Ashdod), 63 in the Sennacherib period 
(705—701). 04 The last date, which is favored, by the great 
majority of scholars, is the most natural date so long as the 
Isaiah narratives, including the anti-Assyrian poem c. 37 22 ff., 
are accepted. C. 10 in its present form echoes the same tones 
of assurance on the one hand and defiance on the other as 37 22 ff. 
But if Stade’s criticism of the Isaiah narratives and the poem 
embedded in them is accepted, a serious difficulty arises. Is the 
great challenge to Assyria in c. 10 justified by the event? Does 
the picture of the abject submission of Hezekiah in the only 
passage allowed byStade to be strictly historical (2 Kings I 813 -I 6 ), 

61 I call these chapters the anti-Egyptian group because cc. 30 and 31 
refer expressly to an Egyptian alliance, and cc. 28 and 29 can be best 
interpreted if this alliance is assumed to be the historical background 
out of which they come (see The Stone of the Foundation, p. 15 f.). 

62 Eichhorn, Ges., Di., Kit. (but with inclination to 711), R. Smith, 
Konig. 

63 Hitzig, Guthe, Giesebrecht, Cheyne, Kuenen. 

04 Koppe, Eichhorn (with reference to vs. 5 - 27 ), Ew., Bredenkamp(?), 
De., Du., Hackmann, Volz, Whitehouse, Skinner, Wade, Marti, Wilke, 
Kiichler. Gray does not commit himself to any date except one sometime 
after 717. 


fullebton: viewpoints in the DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 29 


harmonize with the supreme confidence manifested in c. 10? 
Were the hopes in c. 10 fulfilled? If they were, then were the 
threats in which Isaiah so frequently indulged not fulfilled? If 
the threats were fulfilled, what of the hopes? Were they only 
dreams? This leads to our second question, the date and integrity 
of cc. 28—33, with which c. 22 is probably to be combined. 

2 ) The section, cc. 28—33, has led, in the course of criticism, 
much the same sort of wandering life as c. 10, but there has 
been a growing consensus of opinion in favor of a date in the 
Sennacherib period, and c. 22 is also best explained out of the 
same period. 65 This date for cc. 28—31 (32, 33) and 22 may be 

65 The data which have been utilized to determine the date of cc. 28—33 
are the following: 1) 28 i-4, which presupposes a date before the fall of 
Samaria (722); 2) c. 33, which is supposed to refer to the Sennacherib 
period; 3) the Egyptian alliance mentioned in cc. 30 and 31; and 4) the 
connections between cc. 28 and 29 on the one hand and cc. 30 and 31 
on the other. 1) The entire group has been located in the Sennacherib 
period. So Hitzig, on account of c. 33. This position was soon abandoned } 
a) because of the impossible retrospective interpretation of 28 1-4 which 
it necessitated, and b) because it was soon discovered (Ewald) that c. 33 
was an appendix to cc. 28—32 and therefore not determinative for their 
dating. 2) C. 33 having become detached, the group was located before 
the fall of Samaria (722) on account of 28 i-4 (so Ewald, Duhm in his 
Theologie, Delitzsch, Dillmann). 3) Meanwhile the suggestion was made 
that the group was not chronologically homogeneous. In particular c. 32 
as well as c. 33 came under suspicion or at least was regarded as also 
an appendix. Accordingly, we have the following mixed theories which 
postulate different dates for the different sections of the group, cc. 28—31. 
(a) Cc. 28—30 placed early on account of 28 1 - 4 , but c. 31 assigned to the 
Sennacherib period. So Konig, because of the supposed difference in the 
historical situations implied at 30 1-7 and 31 i-4. In this Konig has had 
no followers, (b) C. 28 early (cf. 28 1 - 4 ), and cc. 29—31 assigned to the 
Sargon period at the time of the Ashdod campaign (ca. 711). So Cheyne 
in his Commentary, (c) C. 28 early (cf. 28 1 - 4 ), and cc. 29—31 placed in 
the Sennacherib period. So Robertson Smith, Kuenen, Guthe (Das Zu- 
kunftsbild des Jesaia ), Bredenkamp, Orelli. (d) Only 28 1-4 early, the rest 
of c. 28 and c. 29 assigned to the late Sargon period, after 711, and 
cc. 30 and 31 to the Sennacherib period. So Duhm and Kiichler. 
(e) 28 1-4 early, and the remainder of cc. 28—31 assigned to the Sennacherib 
period. So Stade, Giesebrecht, with some qualifications, Hackmann, Volz, 
Cheyne in his Introduction, Wilke, Staerk, Holscher. It will be seen 
from the foregoing that there is the strongest tendency to bring the 


30 


JOURNAL OP BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


regarded as the first great premise of a new construction of 
Isaiah in which the anti-Assyrian prophecies are rejected. The 
second premise is derived from the criticism of these prophecies. 

When cc. 28—31 are attentively examined, a most curious 
phenomenon is discovered, the regular interchange of hope and 
threat. 66 The alternation is so consistent as to warrant the 
conclusion that it is deliberate. In the earlier stages of criticism 
this curious fact does not seem to have attracted much attention. 
Ewald, it is true, felt the difficulty, for he says that in these 
chapters Isaiah is addressing different groups of people. Duhm 
in his Theologie , accepts the sequences as they stand, and, as 
we have seen, derives from the abruptness of the changes from 
gloom to hope support for his theory of the miraculousness of 
the future era. The change to it is so sudden and complete that 
it must be effected by Jahweh himself. Guthe, also, accepts the 
sequences, apparently without misgiving. Giesebrecht, however, 
was somewhat staggered by one instance of them, namely 28 5f. 

group as a whole, with the exception of 28 i-4, down to the Sennacherib 
period, and I will assume the correctness of this view. It is based on 
two premises: a) the immediate connection between cc. 28 and 29 with 
cc. 30 and 31, and b) the identification of the Egyptian alliance in cc. 30 
and 31 with the one known to have existed in the Sennacherib period. 
It would take us too far afield to attempt to establish the validity of these 
two premises in the present discussion, but they underlie all the argument 
that follows. Anyone who wishes to attack its conclusions must show 
the incorrectness of these premises. As to c. 22, for our purposes only 
the dating of 22 i-i4 need be noticed, a) It is placed just after the 
accession of Hezekiah. So Ewald; according to him in 727. b) Assigned 
to the Sargon period. So Kleinert, Bredenkamp, Cheyne in his Commentary. 

c) Assigned to the Sennacherib period before or during the invasion. 
So Lowth, Koppe, Eichhorn, Gesenius, Hitzig, Knobel, Delitzsch, Dillmann, 
Orelli, Giesebrecht, Stade, Robertson Smith, Duhm, Wilke, Kiichler. 

d) Assigned to the Sennacherib period after the invasion. So Sorensen, 
Guthe, Kuenen, Hackmann, Volz, Marti, Meinhold, Staerk. The passage is 
not homogeneous, and I shall assume in what follows that the date of vs. 1-5 
and 12 - 14 , the passages which more immediately concern us, can safely be 
fixed in the Sennacherib period, but before the invasion. Hence these 
verses are to be grouped with cc. 28—31. See an outline of the argument 
for this date of c. 22 in the writer’s article on The Book of Isaiah, The 
Harvard Theological Review, pp. 516 If. 

66 See Table p. 70. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 31 


These verses are in flat contradiction with what Giesebrecht 
considered to be Isaiah’s earliest messages of doom. He advanced 
the theory that these early threats were subsequently modified 
by Isaiah himself through the addition of vs. 5 and 6, when the 
historical condition had changed, and that, still later, the passage 
was revised again by the addition of the threats in vs. 7-22 
which came out of the Sennacherib period and which in turn 
recalled the promise in vs. 5, 6. 67 In connection with his assignment 
of 28 7-22 to the Sennacherib period Giesebrecht made another 
observation of fundamental importance. Hitherto the general 
tendency had been to push the hopes in cc. 28—31 into the 
foreground and the threats into the background. But when these 
chapters ivere placed in the Sennacherib period a difficulty arose. 
On other occasions, as in the Syro-Ephraimitic crisis (cc. 6—8) 
or the Ashdod campaign (711), Isaiah threatened king and people 
if his advice, that is Jahweh’s, was not followed. In the Sennacherib 
period the anti-Assyrian party which Isaiah had always opposed 
had got the upper hand and were leading the country into revolt. 
In cc. 28—31 Isaiah opposed this policy as earnestly as Jeremiah 
opposed a similar policy in later days. Under such circumstances 
we would expect threats rather than encouragements , and in 
consequence Giesebrecht laid all the emphasis upon the threaten¬ 
ing elements in cc. 28—31. But have the hope elements in this 
group any place at all in such a situation? Of course, it is 
conceivable that both the threats and the hopes could have been 
expressed conditionally, according as the people refused or 
accepted the prophet’s advice. But unfortunately both are 
regularly expressed unconditionally. Twice in the course of 
these chapters Isaiah, himself, says that the alternative had been 
presented earlier to them but that they had refused to follow 
the right way. 68 As a matter of fact the anti-Assyrian party did 

67 See his Beitrdge, pp. 65, 68-71. This theory of various revisions 
by Isaiah of his own works is also utilized to account for the equally 
abrupt changes at 8 8-10 and 17 12 - 14 . The similar changes in cc. 29-31 
were explained exegetically. Giesebrecht’s theory was of great value in 
calling attention to the problem of these curious changes, but his solution 
of it has died a natural death. It was too artificial to survive long. 

68 28ia; 3015. 


32 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


have its way; the revolt was precipitated. How, then, could 
Isaiah give such encouragements as we find in these chapters 
when the people refused to follow him? At this point a formid¬ 
able difficulty is uncovered. It is rendered still more acute 
when, on the one hand, c. 10 with all its trailers is brought down 
to the Sennacherib period and thus becomes associated with the 
hope elements in cc. 28—31, and, on the other hand, 22 1-14 is 
associated with the threats in these chapters. The unmediated 
transitions from threat to hope in Isaiah, especially in the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies, have occasioned more difficulty than any 
other single problem in the book. If both these threats and 
hopes are located in the same period, the Sennacherib period, 
as in the case of cc. 28—31, c. 22, and c. 10, the problem of 
their relationship to each other becomes doubly difficult, for the 
unchanging opposition to Isaiah’s policies in this period would 
lead us to expect only denunciations, not promises. Furthermore, 
the question must again be raised: Were the hopes or the 
threats fulfilled? This depends upon one’s views of the historicity 
of the Isaiah narratives which we have seen was seriously 
attacked by Stade. What happened in 701, a terrible disaster 
or a triumphant deliverance ? Such are the factors in the problem 
of the anti-Assyrian prophecies with their expressed or implied 
doctrine of the inviolability of Zion. The chief attempts to solve 
this problem are the following. 

1 ) Robertson Smith held that the change from threats to 
promises was due to the reforms of Hezekiah which he locates in 
the midst of the campaign. 69 This is in agreement with the Well- 
hausen insistence upon the ethical element in Isaiah. Deliver¬ 
ance is inconceivable without repentance. Smith assumed the 
present order and historicity of the Isaiah narratives according 
to which 2 K. 18 13-16 is the first episode in the Sennacherib 
campaign against Judah, and he locates the reforms between 
2 K. 18 13-16 and 18 i7ff. But if Stade’s criticism of the 

69 Delitzsch and Orelli seek to mediate from threat to promise also 
through the goodness of Hezekiah. The main interest of these men is in 
the principles of prophetic fulfilment, and their work is therefore domin¬ 
ated by the apologetic, rather than the historical, interest in the above 
questions. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 33 


Isaiah narratives is accepted, Smith’s theory cannot be carried 
through. 

2) Dillmann assigns both cc. 28—32 and c. 10 to earlier 
periods in Isaiah’s life 70 and thus seems to relieve the violent 
contrast between them which exists if both groups of prophecies 
are placed in the Sennacherib period. But this is of little avail 
as long as he keeps the equally contradictory prophecies, c. 22 
and c. 37 22if., in this period. He says: the former threats have 
been fulfilled in 2 K. 18 13-16; as the facts speak for themselves, 
it is no longer necessary to renew them; the time is now ripe 
for promises. But is not c. 22 a threat and the most unqualified 
of all? Yes, but though it is also placed after 2 K. 18 13-16, it 
is only an episode, Dillmann tells us, only a momentary outburst 
of anger! 

3) The usual theory has been that Isaiah was so outraged by 
the blasphemous arrogance of Assyria as to overlook, for the time 
being, the sins of Judah. This theory is based mainly on 10 5-15 
and it emphasizes the religious rather than the ethical interest. 
Assyria is guilty either of lese majeste against Jahweh or sacrilege 
against his temple. This theme is repeated with almost endless 
variations by scholars of all schools. 71 The fundamental objection 

See above, n. 62, 65. 

71 E. g. Ewald (a classic formulation of this theory), Stade (in his 
Geschiclite ), Guthe, Giesebrecht, Driver {Isaiah, in the Men of the Bible 
Series), Kuchler, Wilke, Kittel. Sometimes the conflict between the hope 
and the doom prophecies is dulled a little by referring them to different 
periods, j Ewald places cc. 22, 28—32 before 722 but c. 10 and the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies in the Sennacherib period. Guthe and Giesebrecht 
reverse this and place cc. 22, 28—31 (in part) in the Sennacherib period 
and c. 10 earlier. Such methods do nothing to relieve the difficulties of 
the abrupt changes within cc. 28—31 or between c. 22 and 37 22 f. when 
both are located in the Sennacherib campaign. According to Driver, Isaiah 
forgot all party interests in the great national crisis, just as Aristides did 
in the crisis of Athenian history, and promises took the place of denun¬ 
ciations (as if Isaiah would encourage those who repudiated his policy!). 
The arrogance of Assyria must be challenged. “There are bounds which 
even a despot cannot pass” ( Isaiah , his Life and Times , p. 69). Similarly 
Kittel: “When Asshur trespasses upon Zion, where Jahweh has his altar 
and where Isaiah himself in the most exalted moment of his life was 
honored with a vision of him, then is Judah’s guilt forgotten for a 

3 


34 


JOURNAL OR BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


to it is that in the situation of the Sennacherib campaign promises 
are the last thing we would expect Isaiah to indulge in. He had 
spent his life in protesting against foreign alliances. Faith in 
Jahweh, not in Egypt, was his solution for the ills of the times. 
“Egypt is man and not God; his horses are flesh and not spirit. 
In returning and rest ye shall be saved; in quietness and con¬ 
fidence your power shall be. If you do not believe you shall not 
he established .” 72 These are the expressions of the fundamental 
religion of Isaiah. His kingdom is the kingdom of the spirit and 
he sets it in irreconcilable antithesis to the kingdom of force. 
They are to trust in the gently-flowing waters of Siloah, symbol 
of the power of the spirit, not in the muddy, swirling flood of 
the Euphrates, symbol of the power of the material and the 

moment—not for ever—and the judgment upon Assyria becomes controll¬ 
ing.” (Geschichte des Volkes Israel 2 II, p. 511). According to Dillmann 
the anger of c. 22 was a passing mood; according to Driver and Kittel, 
in the promises to Judah Isaiah momentarily ignored its sins. One of 
these explanations is just as improbable, when the historical situation is 
realized, as the other. Stade, in his History , having thrown doubts upon 
the historicity of the Isaiah narratives, logically holds that both threats 
and promises were fulfilled in the Sennacherib campaign, the former in 
the laying waste of Judah, the latter in the withdrawal of Sennacherib. 
But he has so reduced the glory of the deliverance that it is hard to 
think that it represented any adequate fulfilment of the triumphant 
challenges to Assyria expressed in the anti-Assyrian prophecies. In 
Kiichler’s view Judah does not escape by any virtue of its own but 
solely because Assyria, owing to its brutality and arrogance, is not a 
fitting instrument with which to punish it. But further, he adopts Stade’s 
criticism of the Isaiah narratives and draws the inference, which Stade 
himself did not at first draw so bluntly, that Isaiah’s promises were not 
fulfilled in any true sense. Jerusalem was spared, but Sennacherib accomp¬ 
lished all he desired to do. Wilke draws a sharp distinction between Isaiah’s 
attitude down to the Sennacherib period and his attitude in that period. 
Before the campaign he had been consistently favorable to Assyria, but 
in the Sennacherib period he was opposed to it. The primary reason was 
not a change in Judah, though Wilke refers to Hezekiah’s reforms, but 
a change in Assyria! Wilke, following Winckler, draws a contrast between 
the reforming king, Tiglath-Pileser, and the later savage brutality of 
Sennacherib! The attempt of Winckler and Wilke to construe the so- 
called pro-Assyrian policy of Isaiah as a policy in any true sense favor¬ 
able to Assyria is totally to misconceive the real teachings of the prophet. 

72 Is. 31 3; 30 15 ; 7 9 . 


FULLERTON! VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 35 


fleshly. 75 All this was impractical idealism, if you will, but it 
was the heart of Isaiah’s message to the world. Now the point 
is, in the Sennacherib campaign Judah did the very thing against 
which Isaiah had protested all his life and in no oracles more 
powerfully than in cc. 28—31. The anti-Assyrian party got 
complete control, repudiated the advice of Isaiah and formed 
an alliance with Egypt. Would Isaiah now turn around and, in 
the face of this complete apostasy, promise deliverance? It is 
unthinkable. The suggestion that even for a moment he could 
have forgotten the sin of Judah, now in open rebellion against 
the word of Jahweh spoken through him, cannot be, itself, for 
a moment entertained. It would mean that he had not only 
forgotten Judah’s sins, but the very essence of his own mission. 

4) Though Duhm does not refer to the difficulty just mentioned, 
he seems to be subconsciously aware of it. At least that seems 
to be the clue to his treatment of the anti-Assyrian prophecies. 
Like the Messianic prophecies, they are not intended for a 
general audience, but rather for the group of believers which 
gathered round him. 74 This theory would get rid of the difficulty 
which inheres in the supposition that these challenges to Assyria 
were hurled against it in public, in which case Isaiah would have 
only strengthened the anti-Assyrian policy which he was in 
reality opposing. But is there any evidence in the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies as they now stand that they were spoken in private? 
Not one bit of reliable evidence is produced for such a theory. 75 
It is possible to hold it only after the most drastic criticism of 
this group has been made. 76 

7 * 8 6 - 8 . 

See Commentary , Ed.*, at 29 i-8; 30 27 . 33 , pp. 182, 195, 201. Staerk, 
also, p. 123, avails himself of this theory, though his final solution of the 
problem is a different one (see below). 

75 Duhm’s treatment of the entire group of anti-Assyrian prophecies 
incidentally suggestive as it is, must be considered quite inadequate. 
The dates for those which are received are generally assumed rather than 
proved; the criticism of them is in unstable equilibrium, for some are 
rejected while others are retained without adequate justification for the 
discrimination; and the problem which they present, if placed in Isaiah’s 
life-time, and the conflict between them and Isaiah’s message receive no 
adequate discussion. 

76 See below, p. 49, n. 107. 


3* 


36 


JOURNAL OR BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


5) Overwhelmed by the difficulties of finding any place or 
meaning for the anti-Assyrian group of prophecies in the life¬ 
time of Isaiah down to and including the Sennacherib campaign 
of 701, Staerk seeks a place for them still later, in connection 
with a conjectured second campaign of Sennacherib. His two 
chief reasons for this solution are: a) his acceptance of the logic 
of Stade’s criticism of the Isaiah narratives and consequent 
denial of any marvelous deliverance of Jerusalem in 701; and 
b) the psychological impossibility of Isaiah promising deliverance 
in 701 to a people who were in the act of rebelling against 
Jahweh’s will. 77 The terrible devastation to which Judah was 
subjected in 701 caused Isaiah to change his views of Assyria. 
The vftpig of this military power must be rebuked; hence, wdien 
Sennacherib came again against Jerusalem, Isaiah prophesied 
his overthrow. 78 It is interesting to observe how Staerk pushes 
the anti-Assyrian group down into an unknown period of Isaiah’s 
life, just as Duhm pushes the Messianic group into the same 
period. This feeling that neither group of prophecies can be 
adequately explained out of that part of Isaiah’s life of which 
we have definite information is a very suspicious circumstance. 
Further, the fact that thus far no reliable evidence of a second 
campaign against Jerusalem has been discovered is an obstacle 
of the most formidable kind to the solution which I originally 
proposed, and, failing such evidence, I have been reluctantly 
compelled to resort to another solution (see below). 

77 Das Assyr. Weltreich , pp. 81 ff., 86 ff., 105—124. The theory of two 
campaigns of Sennacherib was first proposed by Winckler ( Alttestament - 
liche Untersuchungen , 1892). This solution of the problem of the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies was already suggested by me two years before the 
appearance of Staerk’s work in a discussion of the two-campaign theory 
of the Isaiah narratives. (See The Invasion of Sennacherib, in particular 
p. 684, n. 134.) I still believe that this theory affords the readiest means 
yet proposed for the defense of the anti-Assyrian group. It is also adapted 
by Baentsch (ZWTh, 1908, p. 470). 

78 Staerk thus ranges himself with the writers referred to above in 
n. 71, though he places the change in Isaiah’s attitude toward Assyria 
after 701 rather than in the campaign. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OE ISAIAH 3f 

IV. The Final Neo-Critical Assault upon the Messianic and 

Anti-Assyrian Prophecies. 

In view of the foregoing discussion, it is not to be wondered 
at that in the later phases of the neo-critical movement the 
genuineness of both the Messianic and anti-Assyrian groups of 
prophecies should have been seriously questioned. Hackmann, 
Cheyne and Volz 79 delivered the main attack against the 
Messianic group; Marti, Stade, and Beer carried on the 
operations begun by Stade against the anti-Assyrian group. 80 

A. The Messianic Group. 

In the case of the Messianic prophecies, two main features in 
them, to which the earlier criticism had failed to do justice, were 
now urged against them. 81 1) The first is their nationalism. Is 
the Messiah a political figure with a dash of religion and morals, 
or a religious and ethical figure with a dash of politics? Because 
of the close association of the Messianic king with the Davidic 
dynasty the former view would seem to be the more nearly 
correct one. His functions are neither priestly nor prophetic. 
But in that case there is a latent contradiction between the 
Messianic ideal and the prophetic opposition to nationalism. 
We have seen how Smend seemed to be dimly aware of this 
contradiction. 82 Volz throws it into high relief. 83 He claims that 
not only is prophecy in general antagonistic to nationalism, but 
Isaiah in particular is in the most pronounced opposition to it. 
He unceasingly combatted the various expressions of nationalist 
activities, intrigues, alliances, trust in military power. Through¬ 
out his life he was in conflict with the Davidic dynasty, some¬ 
times in the most violent conflict, as in 735, when he opposed 

79 Zukunftsenvartung; Introduction ; Die Vorexilische Jahiveprophetie. 

80 Kommentar; Biblische Theologie; Festschrift Wellhausen. This phase 
of the neo-critical development is conveniently summed up in Holscher’s 
Die Propheten. 

81 Cf., especially, Volz for what follows. 

82 See above, p. 11. 

83 When Konig, in criticising this position, insists on the Patriotisms 
of the prophets ( Geschichte des ATP , p. 410, cf. 382, 400, a. 4), he should 
define more carefully just what he means by it. 


38 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


the pro-Assyrian policy of Ahaz, or in 705—701, when he 
opposed the pro-Egyptian policy of Hezekiah. 84 Would a man 
of these convictions clothe his hopes in a nationalist form? Of 
course, it is psychologically quite conceivable that Isaiah might 
not have realized the implications of his own theological position, 
and that, consequently, contradictory views might have been 
entertained by him. There is also the important prophecy, 
1 21 - 26 , which seems to look forward to the restoration of the 
golden age of the Hebrew monarchy, the idealized era of David 
and Solomon. 86 But several considerations make against this 
psychological explanation, a) So far as 1 21-26 is concerned, 
Isaiah no doubt seems to embody his ideals in a state organization, 
but this is the one undisputed passage in which he does do this, 
and it is highly significant that in just this prophecy, where, if 
anywhere, we would expect to find a reference to the Messianic 
king, it is absent. One can hardly speak of nationalism in 
connection with 1 21-26. b) Again, in the doctrine of the 
Remnant Isaiah developed a hope of the future which was bound 
up with his doctrine of faith, and which was the appropriate 
expression of the anti-nationalistic trend of eighth-century 
prophecy. 86 But the fact that he expressed his hope in a form 

84 Isaiah, it is true, does not seem to attack Hezekiah personally as 
he does Ahaz. Was this because Hezekiah really tried, though unavailingly, 
to make head against the anti-Assyrian party of his day? Or have 
Isaiah’s attacks upon Hezekiah been deleted by the redactors of Isaiah 
because there was a tradition that the king had undertaken some reforms 
which these same revisers construed as deuteronomic in character? The 
fragmentary state of our sources permits of no final answer to these 
questions. 

8 5 The prophecy, 1 23-26, has often been used as a basis for the defense 
of the Messianic prophecies. Cf. Nowack, Zukunftshoffnungen Israels , 
p. 50. 

86 In cc. 7 and 8 there are hints of an important change in Isaiah’s 
conceptions of the Remnant, due to the experiences of 735. The fact 
that Isaiah takes his son, Shear-jashub, with him when he makes Ahaz 
a promise of deliverance if he would believe (7 1 - 9 ), strongly suggests that 
Isaiah was still cherishing the thought of the possibility of Judah being 
saved, though the negative form of the condition also suggests that he 
thought the possibility to be remote. But when Isaiah turned to his 
disciples (8 n-is), after his vain appeals to the court (7 10 - 17 ), and to the 


FULLEETON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


39 


so entirely in agreement with his fundamental convictions 
shows that he must have been aware, to some extent at least, 
of the implications of these convictions. This makes the 
supposition that he was able to adopt the doctrine of the 
Messianic King because he was not aware of its latent 
contradiction with the essence of his own views quite unlikely, 
c) Finally, the psychological defense of the genuineness of 
the Messianic prophecies, which points to the possibility of 
a man entertaining contradictory views while they are still 
inchoate, and while their different implications are not yet fully 
realized, breaks down at another point. The hopes under dis¬ 
cussion are not integral parts of any of Isaiah’s prophecies, 
whose disagreement with their contexts would be obvious only 
to one who was familiar with the later developments of the 
doctrine. The Messianic prophecies are, on the one hand, in 
themselves very highly developed literary compositions, but, on 
the other, they are isolated blocks among Isaiah’s prophecies and 
only connected with them by links demonstrably redactional . 87 
Granted that it is quite possible for a writer who is unaware of 
the conflict of his own ideas to merge them at times into a 
literary unity, this is not the case with the prophecies under 
discussion. The idea of the Messianic King is nowhere merged 
with the doctrines of the Remnant or the Day of the Lord, or 
with national repentance or the doctrine of faith. Whatever 
points of attachment the Messianic prophecies may have with 


people (8 i-4, 5-8 a), it is difficult not to believe that he saw in his disciples 
the Remnant, and in so doing caught at least a glimpse of that distinction 
which we now know as the distinction between church and state, and 
which has proved such a decisive factor in the spiritualization of religion. 
It is true, the name, Remnant, does not occur again in any unquestioned 
passage in Isaiah, and even in c. 8 Isaiah does not directly call his 
disciples the Remnant. But the progress of the two chapters, 7 and 8, 
and the insistence upon faith as the fundamental fact in religion, which 
is Isaiah’s great contribution to religion, unavoidably suggest the identi¬ 
fication of the company of believers with the Remnant. This theory of 
the Remnant is particularly emphasized by Wellhausen (the Remnant is 
the party of reform) and Robertson Smith. 

87 Of. the impossible verse, 8 23, and the artificial contrast between 
the forest and the twig at 10 33 f. and 11 l. 


40 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Isaiah’s thoughts they are not revealed by the prophet himself, 
but are left to the exegete to discover. In view of the peculiarly 
detached character of these prophecies, the abstract possibility 
that Isaiah may have entertained fundamentally conflicting ideas 
cannot be regarded as an adequate basis for their defense. 88 
Accordingly, the nationalism expressed in the conception of the 
Davidic Messiah is not what we would expect if Isaiah were the 
creator of the Messianic eschatology, and the psychological 
explanation that Isaiah could have entertained conflicting ideas 
without being aware of the disagreements, while abstractly 
possible, does not account for the peculiar literary isolation of 
these prophecies. In this connection the argument from the style 
of 9 1 ff. and 11 iff. might be introduced, but in the present 
instance this argument has, admittedly, little force. 89 Far more 
decisive is the argument from the historical background implied 
in cc. 9 and 11, particularly from 11 l, which seems to pre¬ 
suppose that the Davidic dynasty is no longer reigning. But to 
follow up the evidence would lead to a discussion of exegetical 
details which would divert us from our main argument. 90 

2) The second objection to the genuineness of these prophecies 
to which I would call attention is the large amount of the 
miraculous element in them. At this point Duhm senses their 
true nature more correctly than Wellhausen. The figure of the 
Wondrous Child and of the Descendant of Jesse is not a merely 
human figure, even though idealized, as Wellhausen and Smith 
would have us believe; it is an eschatological, that is, a miraculous 
figure, though strangely enough with historical connections. The 
child with the mysterious four names is no ordinary child. The 
attributes of equity and righteousness ascribed to the descendant 
of Jesse are supernatural charisms, and above all the peace of 

88 J3y W ay of contrast, 8i8b involves an idea, the localization of Jahweh 
on Mt. Zion, which is in latent contradiction with the incipient universalism 
of eighth century prophecy, but which is nevertheless, from a literary 
point of view, an organic part of the context (against Winckler, Geschichte 
Israels , I. 107, n. 2, and Yolz, p. 43, who reject it). 

89 Hackmann, Volz, and Marti lay little emphasis upon it; Cheyne 
develops it somewhat more 

90 See especially Hackmann’s forcible treatment of the argument from 
the historical background, pp. 135 f., 138 ff. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 41 


nature is a miraculous peace, a peace of the golden age . 91 All 
this contrasts sharply with the intense realism of Isaiah, with his 
vivid ethical and historical interests. At the same time it reminds 
of Wellhausen’s dictum that it was in the post-exilic period that 
prophecy gradually came to he detached from history. It is no 
wonder, therefore, when criticism became fully aware of the 
perplexing problem created by the presence of these prophecies 
among Isaiah’s literary remains, that it was gradually led to 
relegate them to a much later period. This is not capriciousness. 
It is method, and an honest method, too. Once granted Well- 
hausen’s premise on the one hand and Duhm’s exegesis on the 
other, and the attempt to bring these prophecies down to the 
post-exilic period becomes almost inevitable. Of course, if neither 
premise nor exegesis is accepted, the conclusion drawn from 
them might have to be revised. But here a third datum is to be 
considered. 

3) Until the time of Ezekiel there is no reference whatever 
to a Davidic Messiah, and when he appears he is a very modest 
figure indeed. Little is made of him by Ezekiel. 92 If the usual 
views of cc. 40—48 are accepted, the figure of the Messiah 
becomes quite faded in Ezekiel’s later period; if the views ad¬ 
vanced in recent years by Begrich 93 and Herrmann 94 are 
adopted, and there is excellent reason for doing so, it is washed 
out altogether. This absence of all reference to the Messiah for 
over a hundred years is the strangest sort of fact if the Messianic 
passages in Isaiah are original. Its strangeness is increased by 
the further fact that when Ezekiel does refer to the Messiah, 
there is no evidence that he was acquainted with the passages in 
Isaiah. The same thing is true of the references to the Messiah 
in Jeremiah. Whether genuine or not, they show no literary 


91 It is interesting to observe how Wellhausen ( Geschichte , p. 123, n. 2f.) 
and Smith (pp. 301, 303) concentrate their attention upon 11 i-5 and turn 
vs. 6-8 into poetry, whereas Duhm and Hackmann (p. 145 ff.) emphasize 
the latter verses. 

92 Cf. 17 22-24; 2132; 29 2 i(?): and the more important passages 34 23f. 
and 37 24-28. 

93 Das Messiasbild des Ezechiel , ZWTh 1904, p. 433 f. 

94 Ezechielstudien, 1908. 


42 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


dependence upon Isaiah. Now Is. 9 and 11 are so striking that 
in later times it became customary to interpret Isaiah’s other 
prophecies in the light of them, and yet we must suppose that 
they had no effect upon Isaiah’s immediate successors! 96 This 

95 It is this argument which gives pause even to the very cautious 
Kautzsch (see his article on The Religion of Israel, H. D. B., Extra Vol., 

р. 696). The argument would lose only a little of its force even if the 
prophecies of a Davidic Messiah in Jeremiah were admitted to he genuine. 
But I think it can be almost demonstrated that they are not. It would 
require another essay the size of the present one adequately to discuss 
the Messianic element in Jeremiah, but in view of Cornill’s defense (see 
Das Buck Jeremia 1905) of the controlling passage, 23 6-6, a word upon 
it may not be amiss. 1) C. 22 is a later redaction of genuine criticisms 
passed by Jeremiah upon the last kings of Judah. With the exception 
of Josiah (22 10 ») they are bad kings and come to an untimely end. The 
prophecy in its present form ends with the curse upon Jeconiah (vs. 24-28), 
the nucleus of which is certainly genuine; it says nothing about the fate 
of Zedekiah. 2) 23 1-4 is the usual antithesis appended to such grim 
passages in the prophetical books. The evil shepherds, i. e. the wicked 
kings in c. 22, will be removed (a quite unnecessary generalization after 
the concrete denunciations which had just preceded), and good shepherds 
will be put in their place, who will rule over the remnant of Jahweli’s 
flock, now scattered abroad but one day to be brought back. Observe 
that vs. 3-4 are the appropriate antithesis to vs. 1-2 both in thought and 
form, and the passage, so far as it is intended to offset the gloom of 

с. 22, is complete in itself. 3) But upon 23 1-4 there follows the prophecy 
of the personal Messiah, vs. 5 and 6. This prophecy contrasts with the 
one in vs. 1-4 in form; vs. 1-4 are prose, vs. 6-6 are poetry. It contrasts 
in thought; vs. 1-4 refer to the dynasty, vs. 6-6 to the individual Messiah. 
Strictly speaking, vs. 5-6 are quite superfluous after vs. 1 - 4 . Thus vs. 5-6 
have every appearance of being an addendum. 4) But vs. 3-4 imply the 
exile and are therefore late (note that the word ‘remnant’, mK#, is found 
again in its technical, theological sense only in the doubtful passage 31 7 ; 
in cc. 40—44 it refers to the historical group left in Judah at the time 
of the exile, most of whom afterwards went to Egypt). But if vs. 3 -* are 
late, they carry with them vs. 1 - 2 . If, now, the whole passage, vs. 1 - 4 , is 
late and vs. 6 and 6 are an addendum to it, it follows that vs. 5 and 6 are 
still later. 5) Again, the word n&S in v. 5 is left unexplained. Why did 
Jeremiah choose just this word? Neither the noun nor the verb occur 
again in Jeremiah except in the spurious parallel, 33i4ff. Jeremiah cannot 
be dependent upon Is. 11 1 , as is sometimes supposed, for he employs a 
different word from those found there. Further, the word, though figurative 
in meaning, has no effect upon its context. If Jeremiah applied this name 
for the first time to the personal Messiah, we would expect its figurative 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 43 


is almost incredible. Accordingly, when 9 iff. and 11 iff. have 
once been dislodged from their present connections, especially, 
as in the case of 9 iff., from the prophecies definitely dated in 

suggestiveness to pervade the prophecy. This is not the case. It stands 
absolutely unexplained and without influence upon the thought or ex¬ 
pression of the prophecy. In other words it has already become a technical 
term. This is the really significant thing for the criticism of this prophecy, 
but commentators have strangely ignored it. This is probably because 
almost all commentators have been obsessed with the idea that Zech. 6 i 2 f. 
is dependent upon Jer. 23 6 f. The reverse of this is the true relationship. 
In Zechariah the word affects its context (v. 12 b. The clause, nos' VTinnD, 
is improperly rejected by Mitchell, International Critical Com. ad loc.). 
Above all, in Zechariah the choice of it can be naturally and historically 
explained. It is a play upon the name Zerubbabel, which is best explained 
as meaning the “seed” or “sprout” of Babylon (So Sellin, Serubbabel, 
p. 23, and Studien, II 83. For this etymology see also Ed. Meyer, Ent- 
stehung des Judenthums , V, following Meissner and Strassmaier, Siegfried, 
Ezra und Nehemiah ad Ez. 3 2 , Bertholet, Ezra und Nehemiah ad Ez. 1 8, 
Buhl, Mitchell, Commentary on Haggai ad 1 2 . The etymology suggested 
by Haupt, JBL 1913, p. 108, n. 3, seems to me far less probable. But 
even if it were correct, it would not prevent Zechariah’s punning play 
on the name). The attempt to get rid of the name in Zech 6 12 by the 
supposition of text corruption (Duhm and Marti) cannot be admitted as 
legitimate for a moment. The passage is corrupted, but not at that 
point. 6 ) When once the true relationship of Jer. 23 6-6 to Zech. 6 12 is 
recognized, another interesting possibility comes to light. Coniah is 
rejected though he is a signet ring upon Jahweh’s hand. But Zerubbabel 
is to be a signet ring (Hag. 2 23 ). One who recognized the allusion 
to Zerubbabel in Zechariah’s word, n»5f, and remembered at the same 
time Haggai’s reference to the signet ring, may very well have placed 
this oracle in its present position in Jeremiah as an offset to the terrible 
prophecy against Coniah. Cornill sees that vs. 3 and 4 are spurious and 
frankly rejects them. This has the effect of bringing vs. 5-6 into an anti¬ 
thesis to vs. 1-2. But this is to substitute a very poor antithesis for a 
very good one. Again, Cornill completely ignores the way in which the 
name is introduced, which is the critically important datum in the 
prophecy, and concentrates his whole attention upon IJpTf. This name 
in his view is a play upon the name of the last king of Judah and 
occurs just at the point in the sequence of cc. 22 and 23 where we would 
expect a reference to him. Cornill paraphrases as follows : “Thou, Zechariah, 
wilt meet thy fate. State and kingdom will be destroyed. But one will 
come sometime who will be in reality what thy name signifies and what 
thou shouldst have been.” The trouble is, there is nothing of all this in 
the text. On the basis of Cornill’s own showing, vs. 5-6 are brought 


44 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


735, and set adrift on the stream of criticism, it is by no means 
a surprising thing to find them landing upon the farther shores 
of the post-exilic period. In spite of the fact that Wellhausen 
originally defended these prophecies, it was the inward urge of 
his own principles that led his followers in the neo-critical 
school to this final conclusion. But can a proper psychological 
environment for them be discovered even in this late period? 
Before an attempt to answer this question is made, it will be 
well to follow the further fortunes of the other group of pro¬ 
phecies which have especially interested us, namely the anti- 
Assyrian. 


B. The Anti-Assyrian Group. 

The data already brought to light for the solution of the 
problem presented by the anti-Assyrian prophecies are the 
following: a) The legendary character of the Isaiah narratives. 
This character raises in an acute form the question of their 
reliability. Was there such a magnificent deliverance of Zion as is 
described in them? b) The similarity of the group of “many- 

into antithesis to the many bad kings in vs. 1 - 2 , and not to Zedekiah. 
If the purpose were to contrast vs. 5-6 with Zechariah, we would certainly 
expect an express reference to him such as we find to the other kings in 
c. 22. Furthermore, is it likely that Jeremiah would take Zedekiah’s name 
as the key to a prophecy of the Messiah? Granted that Jeremiah does not 
indulge in such bitter personal attacks upon him as he does upon the 
other Jewish kings, and that he was a weak king rather than a bad 
king, he says nothing good of him, either. If a play upon his name were 
intended in the sense of the above paraphrase, it would certainly have 
to be expressed and not left to the ingenuity of later exegetes. Cornill’s 
defense of this passage is ingenious, but anything but convincing. But 
if 23 5-6 are rejected, the other Messianic passages in Jeremiah can 
scarcely stand the test of serious criticism. Caspari (Echtheit der Mes- 
sianischen Weissagung, Is. 9 1 - 6 , p. 32 f.) gives a curious explanation of 
Jeremiah’s failure to allude to Is. 9 i-6. The central idea of this prophecy 
is “ peace ”. This idea was taken up by the uncanonical prophets and 
became their watchword in Jeremiah’s day (6 h; 8 n). His opposition 
to the uncanonical prophets and their mistaken use of Isaiah’s idea of 
peace accounts for his own failure to make use of it. In view of what 
follows Caspari’s attempt to show a connection between Is. 9 i-6 and 
uncanonical prophecy is noteworthy. 


i 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 45 


nations” passages among the anti-Assyrian prophecies to the 
Gog motif in Ezekiel cc. 38, 39. c) The dating of cc. 28—33 
and c. 22, as a group, in the Sennacherib period, d) The strong 
tendency to date c. 10 and therefore the other anti-Assyrian 
prophecies in the same period, e) The wellnigh insoluble diffi¬ 
culties presented by the abrupt changes from threat to promise 
within cc. 28—33, by the presence of threats in 705—701 if 
there was a glorious deliverance, and by the presence of promises 
in the same period when the historical occasion called only for 
warnings. In the face of such conflicting data is it any wonder 
that there has been a resort to criticism? In what follows I shall 
follow the logical rather than the chronological development of 
the attack upon this group. 

1) In the first place, Meinhold followed a correct instinct when 
he began his series of Isaiah studies (unfortunately unfinished) 
with a thorough discussion of the Isaiah narratives. 96 The correct 
appraisal of these narratives is fundamental to the solution 
of the problems of Isaiah. The result of the discussion, which is 
based on Stade’s analysis, is to show that, whatever happened in 
701, nothing took place at that time to justify the feeling of 
absolute security and of proud defiance expressed in the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies in their present form. 2 K. 18 13-16 give 
us the only authentic description of the condition in which 
Sennacherib left Jerusalem. But the growing recognition of the 
legendary character of the Isaiah narratives inevitably carried 
with it a suspicion of the anti-Assyrian prophecy, 37 22 ff., 
included in them. These narratives, including the prophecy, did 
not originally belong to the collection of Isaiah’s prophecies, 
but were taken from Kings, in itself a suspicious circumstance. 
Further, the prophecy agrees entirely with the temper of the 
narratives. If the narratives are untrustworthy, it becomes 
difficult to defend the prophecy which is embedded in them and 
agrees with them. 

2) The present form of cc. 28—33 cannot be original. This has 
been a steadily growing conviction among all scholars of the neo- 
critical school, those of the right wing as well as those of the left. 


96 Die Jesajaerzdhlungen, 1898. 


46 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Ewald was the first to express suspicions of c. 33, which he 
assigned to a disciple of Isaiah. But it was Stade who first 
delivered the attack upon its genuineness from which it has 
never really recovered, and which at the same time swept away 
c. 32 along with it. 97 The appendices to the group having been 
thus disposed of, Sorensen, in 1885, raised the question of 
the integrity of the main body of prophecies cc. 28—31, by 
calling attention to the abrupt changes from threat to hope in 
them. But he gave only brief hints of the difficulties, and his 
work seems to have had little immediate influence. In 1890 
Giesebrecht made a formidable attack upon the integrity of c. 28, 
but obscured the significance of his criticism by his untenable 
theory of a revision of the chapter by Isaiah himself. 98 Two 
years later (1892) Duhm’s commentary appeared, in which he 
completely shattered the integrity of cc. 28—31 and discarded 
the bulk of the hope material in them as reflecting late eschatology. 
His criticism, however, remained in unstable equilibrium. 99 He still 
left to Isaiah 28 16 ,28 23-29 and, above all, the three anti-Assyrian 
prophecies, 29 5-8 (written mit echtjesaianischem Schwung und 
Feuer), 30 27 - 33 , and the nucleus of 31 5 - 9 , especially v. 9 . 
In these three prophecies the inviolability of Zion is either 
expressly taught or implied. Duhm’s criticism was confirmed and 
the logic of it still further applied by Hackmann (1893), Cheyne 
(1895), Bruckner (1897), and Marti (1900), with whose criticisms I 
venture to associate my own article on the Stone of the Found¬ 
ation (1920). The result of all this work is to eliminate all the 
hopes from cc. 28—33. 100 These chapters now stand out grim 

97 ZATW, 1884, pp. 256-271. 

98 Beitrdge pp. 54— 71, 76 —84. 

99 See above, pp. 18, 20. 

100 It is interesting to observe the effect of this further criticism upon 
Duhm in spite of his protests against what he regards as its artificial 
schematizing. In the third edition of his commentary (1914) he finally 
gives up the genuineness of 29 5-8 and 31 9 . The importance of these 
concessions cannot be overestimated. They are the most significant changes 
in the new edition. In view of them, it is strange to find Duhm still 
clinging to the genuineness of 30 27 - 33 . This turgid outburst of vindictive 
fury against Assyria is as little likely to have been written by the author 
of c. 6 as any passage in the book. Can it be that Duhm feels the 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 47 


and unrelieved in their denunciations of the pro-Egyptian party 
and in their predictions of national disaster. "We saw that our 
major premise for determining the attitude of Isaiah in 701 was 
the dating of cc. 28—33 in this period. 101 The minor premise 
is now furnished by the criticism of the group. The conclusion 
is inevitable: Isaiah was a prophet of woe in this period. But 
this, as we have seen, is in strict accord with what we should 
expect, for in 705—701 Isaiah carried on a desperate but losing 
fight against the pro-Egyptian, i. e. the anti-Assyrian, party. 
If, now, this conclusion is combined with the results of the 
criticism of the Isaiah narratives, we arrive at the further 
enormously important conclusion that in the Sennacherib period 
Isaiah was not triumphantly vindicated in his promises but was 
tragically vindicated in his threats. 102 The criticism of the Isaiah 
narratives has carried away 37 22 ff.; the criticism of cc. 28—33 
has carried away c. 33, 29 5 - 8 , 30 27-33 and 31 5 - 9 . What 
becomes of the other anti-Assyrian prophecies? 

3) C. 33 and 29 5-8 (remember Duhm’s final rejection of the 
latter as well as the former) belong to the group of “many- 
nations” prophecies, 8 9 f., 17 12-14 and 14 24 - 27 , which Stade 
had originally associated with the Gog motif of Ezekiel and 
accordingly rejected. 8 9f. and 17 12-14 share with 29 5-8 the 
guilt of contradicting their contexts in the most flagrant fashion. 
14 24-27 does not sin in this respect and, further, refers specific¬ 
ally to Assyria as well as to “all nations”; on the other hand, 
in tone and temper it is exactly like the other “many-nations” 
passages and is especially closely related to Ezekiel, cc. 38, 39. 103 
When c. 33 and above all 29 5-8 are once rejected, it is not 
at all surprising to find Stade’s original suspicions of the remaining 

ground slipping from under his eschatological, supernaturalistic inter¬ 
pretation of Isaiah, and therefore clings desperately to a few remaining 
patches such as this? If this is so, his footing is very insecure. 

uu Above p. 29 f. 

102 Many scholars have been dimly aware of this revolutionary result 
to which their own criticism has been forcing them. But, so far as I 
have observed, they have not formulated it to themselves as precisely as 
I have tried to do in the above statement. 

i° 3 Cf. the destruction of Jahweh’s enemies upon the mountains of 
Palestine with Ezek. 39 2 - 4 . 


48 


JOUBNAL OF BIBLICAL LITEBATLEE 


prophecies of this small group becoming gradually intensified. 
There are left of the great anti-Assyrian group only cc. 18 and 10. 

4) C. 18 is one of the obscurest prophecies in the book; but 
the conventional interpretation can hardly be correct, and any 
deductions from it as to Isaiah’s attitude toward Assyria, which 
is not even mentioned in the prophecy (!), or toward the doctrine 
of the inviolability of Zion, are precarious in the extreme. 104 
There remains only c. 10. The case for the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies stands or falls with this chapter. 106 But here again 
Duhm led the way. All the chapter was rejected by him except 
vs. 5-9 and 13-14. His grounds for this drastic treatment have 
seemed convincing to most of his successors in the neo- 
critical school. 106 But, if even these remnants are left standing, 

The prophecy is usually understood to express Isaiah’s polite 
refusal of an offer of assistance by an Ethiopian embassy, accompanied 
with an assurance that at the proper moment Jahweh will protect his 
own, and Judah’s enemies will be food for birds and beasts of prey. 
But a) the land from which the embassy is supposed to come is not Cush 
but is located beyond the rivers of Cush, if the present text is accepted, 
b) The supposition that Isaiah addresses the embassy at v. 2 b is very 
doubtful. We should at least expect rather than 1^. c) The current 
interpretation of v. l a as “an insect-infested land” is a singular mode 
of address for one who is supposed to be expressing himself with 
diplomatic courtesy, d) The interpretation of the description of the 
people in vs. 2 and 7 as complimentary is beset with the gravest philological 
difficulties. No one has felt this more keenly than Gray (International 
Critical Com., ad loc.), yet, after pointing out very ably the difficulties in 
the current interpretation, he lapses into it at the end of his discussion. 
Herodotus’ description of the Ethiopians (III 20) has too much influenced 
the interpretation of v. 2 . e) I would also call attention to the subjectless 
verb, ■QW, at v. 6. It is usually assumed that the subject of this plural 
verb is the Assyrians or the “many nations”; but there is no evidence in 
the prophecy itself for such an assumption. Moreover, what is the force 
of HIT? If we might judge from an original prophecy, 31 3, the VirP 
would naturally suggest Egypt and Judah as the associated victims. 
C. 18 very insistently demands a renewed investigation. Cf. also, Butten- 
wieser, Prophets of Israel , p. 278 ff. The above note was prepared before 
I was familiar with his similar criticisms. 

*05 See my article on The Problem of Isaiah , C. 10. So also Beer. 
Beer’s essay appeared before mine, but it was not accessible to me when 
my own article was written. 

106 The rejection of vs. 27 b -32 may, however, be questioned. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISATAH 49 


they still imply the inviolability of Zion. Assyria would destroy 
it, but in so doing goes beyond the intention of Jabweb. Hack- 
mann, Marti, Yolz and Buttenwieser deny this inference, but 
their denials are quite unconvincing. 107 Hence my attempt at a 
solution in the article just cited along a somewhat different line. 
Ys. 5—7 a and 13-14 belonged originally together (vs. 7b-9 may 
have been a parallel). The subject of these verses does not 
concern the extent of Assyria’s conquests, but the theory upon 
which they were made. Assyria claims to make them in her 
own strength; Isaiah says, Assyria is only an instrument in the 
hand of Jabweb. The problem of the Assyrian conquests was 
the burning theological problem of the day as well as the burning 
political problem. Could Judah still trust in Jahweh who was 
not able even to protect his land from the invasion of Asshur? 
Isaiah, who was so preoccupied with the religious significance 
of the political crisis precipitated by Assyria, could not have 
avoided this question. At some time or other he must have 
answered it. His answer was not that Jahweh would eventually 
step in and save his people. That might have passed among the 
people. His faith reached higher than that. In spite of the coming 
destruction of the nation, he saw in Assyria only the instrument 
of Jahweh’s righteous wrath. C. 10 in its original form, if my 
view is correct, is the highest expression of supernationalism to 
be found in eighth-century prophecy. To infer from it the ulti¬ 
mate deliverance of Zion would be the exact reverse of what 
Isaiah intended. 108 

5) But above and beyond the difficulties already encountered 
in the way of accepting the anti-Assyrian prophecies, there are 
three characteristics of them as a group to which, in spite of 
their obviousness, sufficient attention has not been paid, a) In 
this group we have a fairly large number of prophecies, some 
of them also quite long, purporting to deal with the military 

107 Zukunftserwartung, p. 106 n. 1; Jahwehprophetie , p. 53; Commentary , 
act loc.; Prophets of Israel , p. 285 ff. Their exegesis is improbable, 
especially in Hackmann’s and Buttenwieser’s case who accept v. 12 also! 
Marti suggests striking out the initial 'in as well as v. 12 . 

108 Jn this reduced form c. 10 may have been first spoken to the 
prophet’s immediate followers (see above, p. 35), but this cannot be proved. 

4 


50 JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 

power which dominated the horizon of every Jew and conditioned 
the mission of Isaiah for forty years; and yet, if the internal 
evidence of these prophecies alone is consulted, we could not 
date one of them with any certainty at a particular time in 
Isaiah’s life. This is a most singular phenomenon when one 
stops to think of it. We would expect Isaiah to be as concrete 
in facing this terribly imminent fact of Assyria as he is in facing 
the anti-Assyrian party; yet not once does he allow a hint to 
escape him of the historical background out of which these 
challenges are supposed to be uttered. 109 Every one of them is 
expressed idealistically, rather than historically. They are 
theological rather than political, b) This fact gains further 
significance when it is associated with another fact. It might be 
supposed that the contexts would provide the historical frame¬ 
work out of which these prophecies are to be understood, even 
if the prophecies themselves do not do so. On the contrary, 
these prophecies are, as we have seen, frequently in historical or 
literary conflict with their contexts. It is they which furnish a 
large part of the material for the eschatological framework which 
surrounds the original prophecies of Isaiah and which so regularly 
cancels their threatening import. 110 c) Finally these prophecies 
regularly assume that Jahweh will protect Jerusalem. Such 
protection is taken as a matter of course. It is never explained, 
never justified. The ethical element is almost entirely absent. 
Immanuel, God is with us (8 10 b)—that text might be prefixed to 
all these prophecies. But is this not an extreme instance of 
religion in the service of nationalism? 111 If difficulty has been 
found with the nationalism of the Messianic passages, certainly 
this difficulty is greatly intensified in the case of the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies. Thus from every point of view—the difficulty of 
relating them to the various historical contexts of Isaiah’s life, 
their suspicious relationships to their literary contexts in the 

109 We have seen that the interpretation of c. 18 as anti-Assyrian is 
more than questionable. 10 9 furnishes only a terminus a quo for v. sf., 
but nothing further. 

no See the Table. The original part of c. 10 has been remoulded by 
the redaction in the same interest. 

111 See the prophetic criticism of this at Amos 5 u. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OE ISAIAH 51 


book of Isaiah, and the pronounced type of nationalism expressed 
in them combined with their general lack of ethical interest — 
these prophecies come under the gravest suspicion, and it should 
occasion no surprise that criticism has slowly but surely advanced 
toward their complete elimination from the collection of Isaiah’s 
genuine prophecies. 112 

6 ) In the case of the Messianic prophecies we have seen how 
the silence that settles down upon them in the writings of Isaiah’s 
successors is almost impossible to explain, if they were really 
composed by Isaiah. This silence was found to give added 
significance to the difficulties which an attempt to explain these 
prophecies as Isaiah’s must encounter. Similarly, the doubts of 
the anti-Assyrian prophecies which originate in the discovery of 
their fundamental conflict with Isaiah’s mission and message are 
also greatly increased when they are examined in the light of 
subsequent developments. Here two facts, far more striking than 
the later silence with respect to the Messianic prophecies, are 
observable, a) In the first place, in proportion as the motif of 
this group disagrees with the fundamental conceptions of Isaiah, 
it is in harmony with the fundamental conceptions of Ezekiel. 

112 In view of the above discussions Staerk’s severe criticism of Marti 
is not pertinent. He says: “What Marti scraps together by way of 
exegetical arguments out of his own and others’ notions with respect to 
the prophecies just mentioned, without once shrinking before the mutilated 
figure of Isaiah [lying] in the Procrustes bed of the ‘religionsgeschichtlichen 4 
theories, deserves to be commemorated as a document of an era in Old 
Testament science finally, it is to be hoped, superseded” (Das Assyrische 
Weltreich , p. 215 f.). This is spoken of Marti’s view of the Messianic 
prophecies, but Staerk would undoubtedly apply it to Marti’s attack upon 
the anti-Assyrian prophecies (cf. his remarks upon Marti’s treatment of 
c. 10, p. 212). Kittel also protests against these admittedly drastic 
eliminations. He says with special reference to this method of avoiding 
the difficulties created by the anti-Assyrian prophecies: “In view of the 
no small number of such oracles, and in view of their character which, 
for the most part, either betrays its Isaianic origin or strongly recom¬ 
mends the assumption of it, I hold this way out to be absolutely 
impassable” (Geschichte Israels' 1 II. p. 509). The wholesale denial of laws 
to Moses at one stage in Old Testament criticism seemed equally drastic 
to some scholars. The severity of the surgery in this present case is 
admitted; it is a major operation. The real question, however, to be 
decided is whether the disease is not so deep-seated as to require it. 

4* 


52 


JOURNAL OP BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Stade’s original observation of the close relationship between 
the “many-nations” passages and Ezekiel has been substantiated, 
but it has been extended to the group as a whole, b) But equally 
important is a second fact of a very different kind. Jeremiah is 
in as violent antagonism to this group at one point as Ezekiel 
is in hearty sympathy with it at another. The doctrine of the 
inviolability of Zion which is preached in these prophecies is the 
doctrine preached by those great exponents of nationalism, the 
uncanonical prophets, in other words, the doctrine which Jere¬ 
miah spent the greater part of his life in opposing. Scholars 
have vainly tried to tone down this aggressively obvious fact. 
What for Isaiah is a matter of faith is, they tell us, for his 
followers a dead dogma. Isaiah did not base his doctrine of the 
inviolability of Zion on the fact that it was the cult centre, as 
those who came after him supposed; the Deuteronomists, who 
regarded Zion in this light, quite misunderstood him. That is, 
according to these scholars, they quite misunderstood the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies. But did they? Duhm, who argues along 
these lines, has to admit that not the Deuteronomists, but he, 
himself, has misunderstood a couple of the most important of 
these prophecies. 113 After explaining, in the first edition of his 
commentary, their relationship to the later eschatology as that 
of seed to flower, in the third edition he concludes that they 
themselves are the flower. No, if Isaiah was responsible for the 
anti-Assyrian prophecies, the Deuteronomists did not misunder¬ 
stand him, but built upon his work and could do so with a 
perfectly good conscience. The doctrine of the inviolability of 
Zion expressed in these prophecies is not explained or justified; 
it is simply assumed. In other words, it has already become a 
full-blown dogma, ready to the Deuteronomist’s hands. In that 
case a violent and most unfortunate contradiction is constituted 
between Jeremiah and Isaiah, the two most outstanding figures 
in Old Testament prophecy. 114 Here is a remarkable situation. 

n 3 See above pp. 18, 46 on 29 5-8 and 31 5 - 9 . 

in Westphal recognizes, quite frankly, the fact of this contradiction. 
“The conviction of Zion’s inviolability, apparently first cherished and 
expressed by Isaiah, burned intensely among the people; it became a 
popular idea against whose dangerous consequences the later prophets, 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


53 


In their fundamental religious and ethical outlook there is a 
remarkable agreement between the two men. Isaiah’s doctrine 
of faith and his doctrine of the Remnant naturally lead on to 
that great development of inwardness in religion and of the im¬ 
portance of the individual which makes Jeremiah’s message so 
epochal in the history of religion. In Jeremiah we see the break 
with a nationalistic conception of religion, implicit in the two 
doctrines of Isaiah just mentioned, still further accentuated. 
The hearts of the two prophets beat in unison. On the other 
hand, the two doctrines which have been discovered to be most 
out of accord with Isaiah’s theology and political activities, 
namely the doctrine of the Messianic king and the doctrine of 
the inviolability of Zion, are either entirely ignored 116 or positively 
opposed by Jeremiah. But, it may be said, the fact that Jeremiah 
does not agree with Isaiah does not necessarily make against 
the genuineness of the doctrine of inviolability in Isaiah. It is 
not necessary, except on the traditional theory of inspiration, 
that prophets should always agree. As a matter of fact, does 
not Ezekiel disagree with Jeremiah at a point closely allied to 
the disagreement predicated between Jeremiah and Isaiah? He 
does, but the disagreement in the former case can he very 
readily accounted for. Ezekiel has adopted con amove the 
deuteronomic theories of the central sanctuary and its holiness; 
but in the circumstances this was the natural thing for him to do. 
It was the deuteronomic theory of the cult significance of Zion 


like Micah and Jeremiah, were obliged to contend” ( Jahwe's Wohnstatten, 
p. 176). The later theory, he tells us again, is to be referred back to 
“possibly in part misunderstood sayings of Isaiah”. What is the reason 
for this cautious qualification “in part”? Does it betray Westphal’s 
uneasy feeling that after all these prophecies were not misunderstood? 
In an article in the Church Quarterly Review for 1912 on The Book of 
Isaiah. A New Vieiv , Burney has this significant sentence: “We can 
imagine Jeremiah’s opponents quoting Isaiah’s words against him and 
reminding him how the earlier prophet’s patriotic [note the word] policy 
had been triumphantly vindicated in the event” (p. 107). Cf. Smend’s 
statement at the end of his discussion of the anti-Assyrian prophecies: 
“Isaiah prepared the way for Judaism” ( Religionsgeschichte , p. 289). 
See, also, above, n. 95, end, and Sellin, Prophetismus , p. 52. 

115 See above, n. 95. 


54 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


that helped to preserve the unity of the people in the suffering 
of the exile. Whatever criticism may be passed upon the doctrine 
of centralisation from the point of view of a pure spiritual 
religion, undoubtedly it did a great service during the exile, and 
a deeply religious man, such as Ezekiel unquestionably was, 
may well have attached himself to this theory, even though it 
had been opposed by Jeremiah at a time when the historical 
circumstances were quite different. 116 But in the case of Isaiah 
and Jeremiah, the circumstances which they had to face were 
almost exactly analogous. The conflict between them, if the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies are genuine, would be a conflict in the 
fundamental conceptions of religion, unrelieved by differences in 
circumstances which might explain it. The fact is, Jeremiah’s 
opposition to the doctrine of Zion’s inviolability only serves to 
throw the disagreement between the anti-Assyrian prophecies 
and Isaiah’s fundamental conceptions into still higher relief. 

7) But not only Jeremiah was opposed to the doctrine of the 
inviolability of Zion, Isaiah’s own contemporary, Micah, was also 
opposed to it. And it is important to notice that this doctrine 
was a popular doctrine in Micah’s and Isaiah’s day exactly as it 
was in Jeremiah’s. 117 Would Isaiah have been less true to his 

Into the vexed question of Jeremiah’s general attitude toward 
Deuteronomy it is impossible to enter in this connection. There were 
certain elements in the deuteronomic reform with which Jeremiah might 
well have had some sympathy, but he was undoubtedly opposed to its 
fundamental idea, the centralization of the sanctuary at Zion, for he tells 
us this himself, or at least his biographer, Baruch, does, in a passage 
(c. 26) the substantial historicity of which is admitted even by the most 
sceptical of critics. Compare also c. 7, the essence of which must be 
regarded as genuine, even though, with Duhm, a considerable amount of 
redaction may be admitted. 11 i-i4, on the other hand, must be regarded 
as wholly redactional (Duhm, Cornill, Puukko, Jeremias Stellung zum 
D enter onomium, 1913). Erbt’s ingenious attempt (Jeremia unci seine Zeit) 
to save some of it for Jeremiah is quite unconvincing. 

Hi “Jahweh is in our midst; evil shall not come nigh us” (Mi. 3uf.). 
“Let Jahweh, God of Hosts be with you as ye have said” (Amos 5 14). 
Both prophets put the same sentiment into the mouths of the people, 
but the context in Micah shows that it involves the belief in the in¬ 
violability of Zion. Immanuel at Is. 8 8b-io expresses exactly the same 
thought. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 55 


great prophetic convictions than Micah was? Would he have 
made concessions at this point to popular fanaticism that Micah 
sturdily refused to make? The fact that Micah repudiated the 
doctrine ot the inviolability of Zion should give us pause. 118 

V. The Place of the Anti-Assyrian and Messianic Prophecies 

in the Religion of Israel, and the Theory of the Revision. 

But there are three objections which may be urged against 
the neo-critical attack upon the anti-Assyrian prophecies and 
which demand an answer. A brief consideration of them will 
also give opportunity to round out the neo-critical theory of 
this group. 

a) It has often been held that the anti-Assyrian prophecies 
precede the deuteronomic reform and prepare the way for it, 
and hence are to be located in Isaiah’s day. b) Again, if there 
was no glorious deliverance in 701, how is it possible to account 
for the rise of the legend found in the Isaiah narratives? 
c) Finally, if Isaiah’s message was one of national disaster, how 
did it come to pass that the anti-Assyrian prophecies as well as 
the Messianic prophecies were attributed to him? Is not the 
supposition of a revision so totally alien to the original intent 
of Isaiah’s message most unlikely? 119 

1 ) In the first place, granted that the anti-Assyrian prophecies 
might be regarded as precursers of the deuteronomic reform if 
their genuineness were once established, is it necessary to accept 

118 Robertson Smith and Smend felt this difficulty, but their attempts 
to solve it are most inadequate. Micah’s attitude toward Jerusalem is 
supposed to be that of a provincial for whom the capital is a kind of 
Sodom. He would therefore contemplate the destruction of the city with 
more equanimity than Isaiah was able to do. The latter lived in the 
capital and had a more aristocratic turn of mind (Smith, p. 289 f.; Smend, 
p. 237, n. 2 f.). Smend also suggests that Micah may have anticipated 
the destruction of the city without at the same time anticipating the 
destruction of the nation. A difficult abstraction in the days of city- 
states, when the fall of the capital usually meant the destruction of the 
nation also! 

U9 For this last objection compare, especially, Westphal, p. 176, and 
Miss Louise Smith, The Messianic Ideal of Isaiah, JBL 1917, p. 190* 


56 JOURNAL or BIBLICAL LITERATURE 

V 

their genuineness in order to account for that reform? By no 
means. A brief sketch of the development of the idea of a cen¬ 
tral sanctuary will make this plain. 120 Fortunately, the idea can 
be studied in the broad light of history, from its origin in the 
time of David and Solomon to its culminating expression in 
Deuteronomy. The origin of the doctrine is to he found in 
David’s purchase of the threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite 
for the purpose of erecting an altar there, in order to commem¬ 
orate the cessation of a plague which threatened the city in 
his day. 121 On this site Solomon later erected the temple. The 
temple was the royal sanctuary. The prestige acquired by the 
monarchy under David and Solomon accrued to the temple, and 
it speedily became the most famous sanctuary in the land, in 
spite of the fact that it was later in origin than many other holy 
places. Undoubtedly the priests who ministered at this royal 
shrine took advantage of the royal favor to elaborate a cere¬ 
monial corresponding in magnificence to the splendor of the 
court. After the Schism, two royal sanctuaries sprang up at 
Bethel and Dan, but this did not lower the prestige of the 
Jerusalem temple in the minds of the citizens of Judah. On the 
contrary, its supremacy was all the more insisted upon. When 
Judah became vassal to Israel and the monarchy suffered political 
eclipse, it was the temple alone that represented the ancient 
glory of the kingdom. It was in the temple that the national 


120 See especially, Well. Proleg. 3 , pp. 18—26; Smend, Die Bedeutung 
des Tempels , (STK, 1884, p. 689 £f.); Westphal, Jahwes Wohnstdtten, passim. 
These scholars all emphasize the great importance of Isaiah and of the 
events in 701 for the growth of the centralization idea. What follows 
suggests modifications of the general Wellhausen theory at these points. 

121 2 Sam. 24. There is no good reason to doubt the substantial ac¬ 
curacy of the narrative in this chapter. (See especially Westphal, 161, 
and Budde’s Commentary on Samuel ad loc.). This implies that the rock 
which fixed the site of the temple had not been a sanctuary in pre- 
Davidic times (See Kittel, Studien zur Hebraischen Archaeologie, I. Der 
Heilige Fels, for a different view). The sanctuary of the old Canaanite 
town was more probably at Gihon. It was there that the tent for the 
ark seems to have been pitched (1 Kings 1 32 - 40 ). Smith’s doubt of the 
reason for the choice of the temple site assigned in 2 Sam. 24 seems to 
be unduly sceptical (see his Commentary on Samuel ad 2 Sam. 24). 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 57 


pride could still find expression. 122 Further, Wellhausen rightly 
calls attention to a striking difference between the two Hebrew 
kingdoms which would greatly favor the temple. Whereas in 
Israel outstanding personalities were developed, in Judah in¬ 
stitutions were developed. 123 The priesthood as well as the 
monarchy was far more stable in the southern kingdom than in 
the northern. The power of the priesthood at the capital and 
therefore the prestige of the temple would thus tend constantly 
to increase. When Israel finally succumbed to the first great 
rushes of Tiglath-Pileser IV, Shalmaneser Y and Sargon, and 
Samaria fell in 722, whereas Judah escaped, the priests at the 
temple of Jerusalem would not have failed to point the lesson, 
and the unscathed temple at the Jewish capital must have still 
further gained in prestige. Hence, even before the events of 
701 the temple must have come to exercise a great fascination 
upon the minds of Isaiah’s contemporaries, and, as we see from 
the pages of Micah, the dogma of Zion’s inviolability was already 
beginning to exercise its baleful influence. It is therefore entirely 
superfluous to call in the aid of the anti-Assyrian prophecies in 
order to understand the later development of the deuteronomic 
idea. The current which was setting in the direction of Deuter¬ 
onomy was already running strong. But it was a current which 
ran in a very different channel from that in which Isaiah’s 
thoughts were accustomed to flow. The waters of Siloah that 
flow softly could mingle scarcely more readily with this great 
popular flood of nationalism than they could with the waters of 
the Euphrates (Is. 8 5-8*). I do not mean to deny that Isaiah 


122 The immediate connection between the temple, as the royal sanct¬ 
uary, and nationalism is obvious. It is still more obvious if the usual 
view of the ark may still be retained, which regards it as the most 
sacred cult object of Israel and connects it very closely with Jahweh as 
a war-god. The war-like and nationalistic associations which gathered 
around the ark would thus come to centre in the temple. The recent 
brilliant monograph of Arnold (Ephod and Ark, 1917) would modify the 
current conception of the importance of the ark very materially, if its 
conclusions were adopted. They have been subjected to a searching criticism 
by Budde (ZATW, 1921). It is, perhaps, too early to pronounce a final 
judgment upon them. 

123 Geschichte, p. 68. 


58 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


was at times attracted by the temple. It was there he had his 
vision (c. 6) and it was there that Jahweh seemed to him to 
dwell (8 is). If one wishes to find a psychologically natural in¬ 
consistency in Isaiah, he can find it at this point. 124 But such 
an instinctive participation in the current modes of expressing 
a belief in the nearness of Jahweh is very different from sharing 
in the popular dogma of the temple’s inviolability. As a matter 
of fact, Isaiah as distinctly repudiates that dogma in the Ariel 
prophecy as Micah himself does. The enigma of Ariel is only 
an enigma to those who are still dreaming in the older exegesis 
and criticism and who sadly need to be awaked. This prophecy 
in its present form in 29 1-8 illustrates, perhaps more clearly 
than any other single prophecy, how thoroughly nationalistic 
the anti-Assyrian prophecies are, and how flatly they contradict 
Isaiah’s own convictions. 125 

124 See above p. 89 f. 

125 It is unwise to begin the interpretation of 29 i-8 by attempting 

to determine the precise philological meaning of the very obscure term 
’Ariel. It is better first to ascertain how it is used in this passage. The 
following points seem to be clear. 1) ’Ariel is evidently the name of a 
city. 2) The city can be no other than Jerusalem; at least it was under¬ 
stood to mean that by the writer of v. 8. 3) The name, and this is all 

important, must be capable of a double meaning, one suggesting honor 
and the other dishonor. The latter meaning is absolutely required by 
vs. 2 , s. In view of Jahweh’s terrible dealing with her, ’Ariel shall be as 
’Ariel! The former meaning is required by v. l. Isaiah does not explain 
the name in this verse; it is therefore altogether probable that he uses 
a name or title of Jerusalem already familiar to the people. If so, it 
must have been used by them in an honorific and not in a derogatory 
sense. Thus the name which the people were accustomed to give to 
Jerusalem in reverence Isaiah gives to it as a threat. This conclusion 
seems to be absolutely necessary. It follows that no interpretation of 
Ariel which is unable to explain it in two opposite senses will meet the 
demands of the context. 4) But there is another antithesis in the passage 
which is often overlooked. TPin, v. 2, is clearly used in a hostile sense* 
One reason why Jerusalem is likened to ’Ariel is because Jahweh is to 
encamp against it (T^)* But in what sense is nan used in v. ia? There 
is no defining word like Tpto to tell us. It is commonly supposed to 
have a favorable sense in v. ia e. g. to ‘take up his abode’. This would 
agree with the meaning of ’Ariel in v. l and with the interpretation which 
the hearer would no doubt give when he heard the opening phrase of 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 59 


2 ) But, it is usually said, the events of 701, as well as the 
anti-Assyrian prophecies, contributed very greatly to the 
strengthening of the tendency toward a centralization of the 

the prophecy. The phrase is a reminder of the capture of the city by 
David, who thereupon made it his capital (2 Sam. 54-9). The auditor 
would understand Isaiah to be alluding to Jerusalem, which David made 
his capital and which is rightly called ’Ariel, a title of honor. But the 
phrase “in Hin JTHp is, like the name ’Ariel, capable of a double meaning 
The ellipsis suggested by the construction might be . . . ItfK, “the 

city where David encamped”, or it might be JT'bs? . . . "itfK, “the city 

against which David encamped”, as the LXX actually understands it (f\v 
i7ro\4/ir]aey). The question at once arises whether the phrase in v. 1 is not 
purposely ambiguous, exactly as the title, ’Ariel, is ambiguous. But in 
that case, since Isaiah makes it clear that he intends to use ’Ariel in an 
unfavorable sense in v. 2 , it is probable that at v. 3 he intends to use 
run in its unfavorable sense. Accordingly, the two phrases are to be 

brought into the same sort of antithesis as the two uses of the name 

’Ariel. This can be done very effectively and at the same time the impos¬ 
sible vns of the M.T. be eliminated by reading with the LXX “as David”. 
The people think of Jerusalem as ’Ariel, in the favorable sense of that 
term; Isaiah thinks of it in the unfavorable sense of the term. The people 
think of it as the city where David encamped, i. e. made it his capital; 
Isaiah thinks of it as the city against which David once fought. There 
is nothing intrinsically inviolable about Jerusalem. David once fought 
against it and captured it; Jahweh can do the same. The subtle but 
stinging irony of the passage on this interpretation is parallelled almost 
exactly by 28 21 , where Isaiah uses another historical allusion with which 
pleasant associations were attached in the popular mind in an exactly 
opposite sense; and compare, also, what I believe to be his ironical use 
of Immanuel at 7 14. Thus the passage can be very well understood even 
though the exact nature of the play on ’Ariel eludes us. The two inter¬ 
pretations of the word most current in recent years which do most justice 
to the demand of the context that it should be capable of a double meaning 
are ‘altar’ or ‘altar-hearth’, and ‘mountain of the world’ and ‘underworld’. 
The latter meaning is based on the Babylonian *aral(l)u. The former is 
the usual Jewish interpretation and has been given special currency by 
Duhm. The latter was suggested by Jeremias (ATAO 2 p. 558), was tent¬ 
atively adopted by Staerk, p. 206, and has recently been championed by 
Feigin and Albright (JBL 1920, 131 ff., 137If.). Either view suggests a 
very forcible play on the name. If “altar-hearth” is adopted, the contrast 
is between the popular conception of the altar, as symbolic of all that is 
sacred and inviolable, and the prophet’s very unconventional conception 
of it, as a place of blood and fire, where the victims are slaughtered or 
burned. Jerusalem, which is Jahweh’s sacred altar in the popular view, 


60 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


cult at Jerusalem. If there was no such signal deliverance at 
this time, we lose the benefit, it is claimed, of one of the most 
interesting historical events out of which the growth of the 
deuteronomic idea could he explained. And again the question 
presses: How can the legend of such a deliverance have grown 
up if there was no historical fact to which it could attach? But 
we have seen that the tendency toward centralization was already 
in existence, and therefore a signal deliverance in 701 was no 
more necessary to account for the culmination of the tendency 
in the deuteronomic reform of Josiali’s day than were the anti- 
Assyrian prophecies. Nevertheless, the events of 701 probably 
did stimulate this tendency, though in a somewhat different way 
than has been commonly supposed. If the views of the Isaiah 

will become a shambles, dripping with the blood of its own citizens. It 
is interesting to realize that Calvin already suggested this interpretation. 
If the view of Jeremias is adopted, then Isaiah says that Jerusalem, the 
sacred mountain, will become a Hades where only shades live their ghostly 
life (cf. v. 4 ). The significance of the passage is the same on either view. 
In favor of the former, however, is the fact that Ezekiel actually uses 
’Ariel in the sense of ‘altar-hearth’, and also the fact that Isaiah had little 
respect for the ceremonial (cf. lioff.). Professor Clay explains ’Ariel as 
meaning “Uru is God”, with reference to the original chief deity of Je¬ 
rusalem. This name we are told “was appropriately substituted by Isaiah 
for the name Jerusalem in his address to the city, which, doubtless, had 
continued to worship that god” (Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society I, 
p. 32). But what is the exegetical significance of the adverb “appro¬ 
priately”? Not only ’Ariel in v. l, but ’Ariel in v. 2 must be explained. 
Now the point of this discussion for our purposes is this. However ’Ariel 
is explained, it is clear that Isaiah is playing upon it and using it in 
v. 2 in a totally different sense from the popular use of it in v. A But in 
vs. 5-8 ’Ariel is undoubtedly used in the popular sense. Mount Zion as 
’Ariel is sacrosanct and inviolable. Those who wage war against her will 
be scattered as a dream, a rather adventurous suggestion in view of the 
fact that Jahweh himself is to encamp against her according to v. 3. A 
denial of the real thought intended in vs. i-4 could not be more expressly 
formulated than is done in vs. 5-8. The popular conception of the in¬ 
violability of the sacred city which Isaiah repudiates in vs. i-4 is reas¬ 
serted in vs. 5-8. The astonishment at v. 9 f. is not occasioned by the 
“enigma” of ’Ariel’s sudden glorious deliverance out of its deep humiliation 
(cf. Delitzsch), but by the fact that this supposedly sacrosanct city is to 
be the scene of pillage and massacre. Strange and outlandish is Jahweh’s 
work (28 21 )! 


FULLERTON; VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 61 


narratives presented above are adopted, there was no deliverance 
which would seem at the time to he any justification of the un¬ 
qualified promises in the anti-Assyrian prophecies. What con¬ 
temporaries of the events must have thought can be gathered 
from c. 1, where Jerusalem is described as “a tent in a vineyard, 
a shack in a cucumber-patch”. Isaiah evidently assumes that 
his hearers will realize the melancholy character of the situation 
as vividly as he does himself. But with the lapse of time a very 
different theory might grow up about what happened in 701. As 
a matter of fact Jerusalem was not sacked; the temple still 
stood. Sennacherib is as clear on this subject as the Bible 
itself. What seemed to Isaiah’s contemporaries to be a complete 
vindication of the prophet’s predictions of disaster could easily 
take on a very different aspect in the eyes of a later generation. 
The doctrine of the inviolability of Zion, in the confidence in 
which the nationalist party had revolted against Assyria, no 
doubt received a rude shock when, at the time of the invasion, 
Hezekiah had to strip the temple doors in order to pay his in¬ 
demnity (2 K. 18 13 - 16 ). But as the memory of the bitter desol¬ 
ation gradually faded out, as such memories almost always do 
fade out, the fact that the capital and the temple were saved 
began to assume greater and greater importance. How was it 
possible for Jerusalem to escape the fate that overtook so many 
of its sister cities ? Jahweh’s hand must have signally intervened 
to deliver it. If so, he must have especially chosen Zion to place 
his name there. The countryside had been devastated. Its altars 
had been desecrated. Jerusalem alone must be the place to 
worship Jahweh in; Jerusalem alone is inviolable. Surely there is 
no difficulty in accounting both for the development of the deuter- 
onomic legend in the Isaiah narratives and the strengthening of 
the deuteronomic doctrine on the basis of the actual facts in 
701 after “the unimaginable touch of time” had begun to soften 
their original asperities. 120 As time went on doctrine and legend 

126 The above argument is an expansion of hints by Meinhold (, Jesaja - 
erzdhlung , p. 103). Retrospective judgments upon the significance of 
Sennacherib’s invasion and contemporary judgments upon it by those 
who experienced its horrors could be very different. It is this distinction 
between contemporary and subsequent impressions upon which I would 


62 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


supported each other, and when it is remembered that it was to 
the various interests of both priests and prophets at the time 
of Josiah’s reform to cultivate the one and confirm the other, 
it is not surprising to find them blossoming and burgeoning ever 
more luxuriantly. 127 The anti-Assyrian prophecies are not the 
precursors of this development but the reflections of it. But how 
did these prophecies, along with the Messianic prophecies, be¬ 
come attributed to the man whose ideas are so diametrically 
opposed to them? In order to answer this question it is necessary 
to trace the development beyond the time of Deuteronomy. 

3) If the suggestions thus far made have been approximately 
true, it will, by this time, be realized that the doctrines of the 
Messianic king and of the inviolability of Zion, which have been 
the special subjects of our study, are closely allied with national¬ 
ism. But in the deuteronomic reform the ecclesiastical theory of 
the state began to encroach upon the political theory of it. It 
is interesting to observe that the law for the king in Deuter¬ 
onomy (17 14 - 20 ), even if its originality is admitted, does not 
emphasize the political duties of the office. 128 The downfall of 

lay special emphasis. Some of the concrete details in the Isaiah narratives, 
certainly the mention of Tirhaka, and possibly the plague, are confusions 
with later events. The recent excavations of Reisner at Napata (Harvard 
Theological Rev. Jan. 1920) show how increasingly difficult it is to suppose 
that Tirhaka could have been called king of Cush in 701. The plague 
may have been a confused reminiscence of what seems to have been a 
failure of Esarhaddon in the Egyptian campaign of 675 (673?). See 
Winckler, KAT 88. Rogers, Cuneiform Parallels , p. 351 for this defect. 
It is a pity, however, that Reisner revives Winckler’s mythical kingdom 
of Musri. It was to be hoped that Meyer’s and Olmstead’s attack had 
forever put to flight the forces of that shadow realm (see Meyer, Israel 
und seine Nachbarstdmme , p. 459 ff., and Olmstead, Sargon of Assyria , 
p. 56—71). So far as Reisner argues against the credibility of the Isaiah 
narratives on the basis of Winckler’s speculations, his argument must be 
discounted, but apart from this he shows how unlikely it was for Tirhaka 
to take the position in 701 ascribed to him in the Isaiah narratives. 

127 Is it fanciful to think that the deuteronomic reformers may have 
utilized the legend to carry through their reforms, which no doubt met 
with a considerable resistance on the part of the conservative peasantry? 

128 Cf., especially, Boehmer, Der alttestamentliche Unterbau des Reiches 
Gottes , pp. 65—67. The law is quite generally regarded as a later addition 
(e. g. by Wellhausen, Cornill, Steuernagel, Puukko). 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 63 


the dynasty and the temple in 586 might have proved equally 
disastrous to both institutions, but as a matter of fact it was 
not. The temple stood the test of the disaster better than the 
monarchy. The great theocratical development which now set in, 
stimulated as it was by the exigencies of the political situation, 
worked to the advantage of the former rather than of the latter. 
Ezekiel’s hopes centre in a restored temple rather than in a 
restored monarchy, though hopes of the latter are not altogether 
wanting. 129 In Ezekiel 37 24-28, for the first time in our docu¬ 
ments, temple and monarchy are brought together in the picture 
of the glorious future. 130 The two. kingdoms are to be united, 
indeed, under one head; David, probably an individual rather 
than the dynasty, shall be their prince or king (v. 24, 25). But 
the culminating feature in the eschatological landscape is the 
temple, not the palace: “The nations shall know that I am 
Jahweh that sanctifieth Israel when my sanctuary shall be in 
the midst of them for evermore” (v. 28 ). It was this vision of 
Ezekiel, in which monarchy and temple are combined, which 
seems to have moulded the hopes of the leaders of the returning 
exiles some seventy years later. At the return under Zerubbabel 
we have the one distinct attempt of prechristian times to realize 
the Messianic royal ideal. It is therefore very interesting to see 
how closely Haggai and Zechariah associated the Messiahship of 
Zerubbabel with the temple. It is the completion of the temple 
that is to usher in the Messianic kingdom. 

Now the most remarkable characteristic of this movement, at 
least in its inception, is its idealistic abandon. Haggai and 
Zechariah are not (consciously at least) political intriguers. They 
eschew all political means to accomplish their ends. “Not by 
might, nor by power but by my spirit, saith Jahweh of Hosts” 
(Zech. 4 6) - that was their slogan. The people were not even 

129 Cf. 34 23-24; 37 22-23, 24 - 27 . Aytoun has recently suggested the eli¬ 
mination of these prophecies as spurious (JBL., 1920, p. 35, n. 30); but 
see Begrich (ZWT, 1904, pp. 433 ff.), and Herrmann ( Ezechielstudien , 
pp. 124—126) for their relation to Ezekiel’s hopes of the future, on the 
more probable supposition of their genuineness. 

iso In the later passage, Jer. 30 21 , the TlK and the seem to have 
much the same position as Ezekiel’s N'fcJ in cc. 40—48. 


64 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


to begin with building the walls of Jerusalem; Jahweh himself 
would be a wall of fire (Zech. 2 9). The only thing the people 
were to do in order to insure the great Messianic epiphany was 
to build the temple; Jahweh would see to the rest. He would 
shake the nations, the Persian empire would fall, and the temple 
would be glorified (Haggai c. 2). It is a singular mixture of 
realism and idealism, of the historical and the miraculous, that 
we have in these prophecies. The hopes attach to an historical 
character, Zerubbabel, and to the historical foundation of the 
temple, but they are incapable of historical realization in any 
literal sense. Do we not see in this episode actually unfolding 
before our eyes the dissociation of history and eschatology to 
which Wellhausen refers as so characteristic of the post-exilic 
forms of prophecy? Is it not out of such a time, or at least out of 
the ideas and hopes which controlled this period that prophecies 
like cc. 9 and 11 can be most satisfactorily explained? In these 
prophecies, as in the visions of Haggai and Zechariah, the super¬ 
natural is prominent, though attached to history through the 
Davidic dynasty. The insistence upon peace as one of the prime 
characteristics of the Messiah’s reign, the lack of emphasis upon 
any warlike activities, are in exact agreement with the idealism 
of Haggai and Zechariah. 131 The nationalism in the figure of the 
Messiah has been sublimated by the close association of the 
Messiah with the temple. Those elements in Is. cc. 9 and 11 
which have been held to express Isaiah’s revolt against national¬ 
ism and have therefore served as a basis for the defense of these 
prophecies, 132 are far more easily explained, not as an antithesis 
to the nationalism of Isaiah’s day, but as the natural expression 
of the new conception of nationalism in the post-exilic period, 
in which the nation is no longer, strictly speaking, the nation, 
but is rather a nascent church, and the king is a servant of the 
temple. Duhm himself has pointed out the close affinity of 
Is. 2 2-4 (5) with the Messianic prophecies in cc. 9 and 11. It 
is by no means an improbable supposition that the three poems 
are by the same author, even if he is not Isaiah. In that case 

131 Hag. 2 9 ; Zecli. 812 (read: “I will sow peace”, and cf. LXX). 

132 See Caspari, Echtheit der Messianischen Weissagung, Is. 9 1 - 6 . 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISA!AH 65 


we have exactly the same association of temple and Messiah in 
these three prophecies as we have in the prophecies of Ezekiel, 
Haggai and Zechariah . 133 As for the anti-Assyrian prophecies, 
those which have been denied to Isaiah, even by the more 
cautions critics, have been usually referred to the Greek period, 
on’the supposition that Assyria refers to the Seleucid kingdom. 
But it is by no means impossible that some of these may come 

133 The above paragraph suggests, very tentatively, the association 
of Is. 2 2 - 5 , 9 i-6 and 111-9 with the ideas of Haggai and Zechariah. This 
is the date to which they are assigned by Sellin in his Serubbabel (not 
accessible to me) and his Studien (II, p. 172ff.), and by Marti, and very 
cautiously by Gray, with variations as to the more precise time. (Sellin, 
whose agile mind is as sensitive to new impressions as Lloyd George’s, 
has since accepted once more the genuineness of these prophecies, under 
the influence of the Gunkel-Gressmann methods. See his Einleitung in 
das Alte Testament , p. 71, and Per alttestamentliche Prophetismus, p. 150, 
and passim ). Hackmann, Cheyne, and Yolz do not seek to date the 
prophecies with any exactness. They refer them, generally, to the post- 
exilic period. Stade ( Geschichte , II, p. 209) seems to assign them to the 
period between Nehemiah and Alexander the Great. Kennett (Journal of 
Theological Studies, Vol. VII, p. 321 ff., and Composition of the Book of 
Isaiah , p. 85) assigns these prophecies to the Maccabean period. Similarly 
Aytoun (JBL, 1920, p.40ff.). The same objection might be urged against 
a date in the early post-exilic period that has been urged against the 
Isaianic origin of these prophecies: Should we not expect some reference 
to them in the later literature (see Gray, Commentary , p. 166)? There 
seems to be such a reference at Is. 65 25 (cf. Is. 11 7, 9 ). But the meagreness 
of allusions to them must be admitted. However, this can be better 
accounted for on the supposition that they came out of the time of 
Haggai and Zechariah than if they were written by Isaiah. In the former 
case they were anonymous prophecies and would presumably not have 
the weight that they would have in the latter case (Hackmann, p. 156). 
But far more important than this consideration is the fact that, if these 
prophecies are associated with the Messianic movement in the time of 
Zerubbabel, they are associated with a movement which ended in a fiasco. 
At that time it is quite clear that the Messianic hopes received a blow 
from which they did not soon recover. Oracles which encouraged these 
hopes would naturally lose influence when the hopes were disappointed. 
But into a detailed discussion of the real date of these prophecies it is 
not necessary for my purpose to go. All I am concerned to do is to 
show that they can be better understood out of the political situation 
and theological convictions of a later age than they can out of Isaiah’s 
day. 


5 


66 JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 

out of the pre-exilic period and refer to the Assyrian empire 
itself. Nahum is not likely to have been the only nationalist 
prophet to cherish a fierce hatred of Assyria. Beer has suggested 
that 10 5-19 came out of the time of Nahum and Zephaniah. 134 
If the views advanced above are accepted, the original part of 
this prophecy is by Isaiah himself, but a renewed consideration 
of a date before the fall of Nineveh for some of the anti-Assyrian 
prophecies is desirable. 

When we turn to examine the Book of Isaiah in the light of 
the development just sketched out, we can, for the first time, 
fully understand the significance of its peculiar structure. Under 
the changed conditions of the post-exilic period the original 
threats of eighth-century prophecy have become surrounded with 
a great framework of eschatological hope. How long it was in 
preparing, whether any materials for it were furnished by pre- 
exilic sources, these are questions of detail which do not 
immediately concern our problem. The one thing needful is to 
realize that there was such a revision. It is the great merit of 
Duhm to have concentrated upon the fact and the importance 
of this revision for the proper understanding of Isaiah. With 
the assumption of such a revision we have at last arrived at the 
place where it is in order to attempt an answer to the third 
objection to the critical view urged above. How is it possible 
to suppose that the two great groups of hope prophecies became 
attributed by the redactors to a man whose fundamental con¬ 
victions they so flatly contradicted? 

a) In the first place, Isaiah was the most out-standing figure 
in eighth-century prophecy. Moreover, this greatest of all the 
early prophets was a citizen of Judah. What a deep impression 
the fulfilment of the warnings of these pre-exilic prophets made 
upon the post-exilic Jewish community is revealed in the very 
instructive passage Zech. 7 7-14. 136 But did the significance of 
the message of such a man apply only to pre-exilic times ? This 
would hardly seem credible to those of a later day. But after 
the exile threats were no longer in order. There must' have 


134 Wellhausen-Festschrift, pp. 15—35. 

135 Delete v.8, with Well., Marti, and Mitchell; perhaps also v. 9 a (Marti). 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 67 


been a message of hope also in the great prophets, adapted to 
the needs of the returned exiles. Thus there would be the 
strongest dogmatic interest in the attempt to make Isaiah, the 
greatest of the pre-exilic prophets of Judah, serviceable to the 
needs of post-exilic Judaism. 

b) Again, there are admittedly genuine hopes in Isaiah 
(1 21 - 26 , the doctrine of the Remnant, and the doctrine of faith), 
to which the dogmatic eschatology of the later times might 
conceivably attach itself. When the post-exilic community identi¬ 
fied itself with the Remnant, 136 it would be very natural for them 
to read back their ideas of the Remnant into Isaiah’s, though 
Isaiah meant something quite different. They could even make 
capital out of Isaiah’s doctrine of the Day of the Lord. That, 
too, became popularized again in later times, and was construed 
as implying hope for the Jews. Since it is unquestionably one 
of Isaiah’s doctrines, it would not be a difficult task for post- 
exilic revisers, who were without an historical sense but were 
controlled by a very strong theological bias, to construe it in a 
sense favorable to themselves, just as Christians of the present 
day often read back their own ideas into New Testament passages 
which originally meant something quite different from what they 
suppose. Thus there are a number of genuine passages in Isaiah 
which later could be utilized as starting-points for a dogmatic 
revision. But much more important than these considerations 
are three other special facts which will account for the in¬ 
corporation of the two groups of prophecies under discussion 
into a collection of Isaiah’s prophecies. 

c) We have seen how there gradually grew up a very different 
judgment upon the events of 701 from the judgment of con¬ 
temporaries. The bare escape of capital and temple from 
massacre and pillage became construed as a signal deliverance, 
wrought by Jahweh, himself. But Isaiah was the outstanding 
figure at that time. Was it possible for a prophet not to be 
aware of Jahweh’s intentions to save the city, and, being aware 
of them, was it possible for him to keep silent? 137 Once grant 


136 Hag. 1 12 , 14; 2 2; Zech. 8 6, li, 12 . 
t37 Cf. Amos 3 7, 8. 

5* 


68 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


the development of the legend of deliverance, and it is an easy 
step to associate Isaiah with that deliverance and to suppose 
that he must have defied Assyria. 

d) This last conclusion would be confirmed by a very natural 
misunderstanding of one of his most striking prophecies. If our 
view of the original meaning of 10 5-15 is correct, Isaiah did 
defy Assyria and threaten its final overthrow', though he did not 
draw any inferences from this as to the deliverance of Judah. 
But it was certainly a very natural inference that he must have 
done so. The revision of c. 10, w T hich brought it into harmony 
with the legend of the Isaiah narratives and the dogma of the 
inviolability of Zion, was a most natural revision to make, and 
this could furnish the starting-point for the gradual incorporation 
of the remaining anti-Assyrian prophecies into the original 
collections. 

e) A similar very natural misunderstanding probably led to 
the incorporation of the Messianic prophecies. In 7 u Isaiah 
predicted the birth of a child who should be given the name 
Immanuel. The name sounded to the ear full of promise. It 
w r as the most natural thing in the world for later students of the 
old texts to interpret it in an altogether favorable sense and 
even to see in it a reference to the Messiah. The later Messianic 
interpretation seems clear at 8 8b-io. But granted the originally 
independent existence of 9 l—6, where again the birth of a child 
of Messianic significance was prophesied, it was almost inevitable 
that the two children should be identified, and 9 1-6 be in¬ 
corporated into the collection of Isaiah’s prophecies in order to 
confirm the interpretation of 7 14; 9 1-6 would, of course, carry 
along with it its companion piece, 11 i-9. Thus the presence 
of the two great groups of the Messianic and anti-Assyrian 
prophecies among Isaiah’s oracles can be very readily accounted 
for as due (1) to the very strong dogmatic desire of the post- 
exilic Jewish community to interpret the great Jewish prophet 
in a way serviceable to the later religious needs, and (2) to the 
ease with which many genuine elements of Isaiah’s prophecies 
could be misunderstood by commentators who were indifferent 
to historical investigations. 

It is not claimed that the revision must have worked exactly 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 69 


along the lines just indicated. But it is claimed that it could 
have done so. The drastic nature of the revision, if both the 
great groups of prophecies under discussion are eliminated, is 
admitted. But I have tried to show that there is nothing either 
incredible or even unlikely about it. The theory of Isaiah, the 
book, here advanced results in the ethical and spiritual inter¬ 
pretation of Isaiah, the man, which Wellhausen, Smend and 
Bobertson Smith advocated, as opposed to the supernaturalistic 
and apocalyptic interpretation of Duhm. But this interpretation 
is arrived at, not by means of an improbable exegesis of the 
oracles in question, but by their critical elimination. Well- 
hausen’s theory of Isaiah, the man, was correct; but his exegesis 
of the Messianic and anti-Assyrian prophecies was wrong. 
Duhrn’s exegesis of these oracles is more nearly correct than 
Wellhausen’s, but his criticism is in unstable equilibrium, and 
this leads him to a false estimation of Isaiah, the man. Neither 
scholar should take it amiss if his principles have been carried 
out a step farther than he himself was willing to go. That is 
usually the fortune of men of original ideas. They are unable 
to check the momentum of their own creative thoughts. The 
work initiated by Wellhausen, Duhm, and Stade has thus 
logically culminated first, in the relegation of the Messianic and 
anti-Assyrian prophecies to a later date, secondly, in a theory 
of Isaiah, the man, which emphasizes as no other theory does 
what is permanently valuable in his message, and thirdly, in the 
only theory of Isaiah, the book, which does any sort of justice 
to its peculiar nature. These are great accomplishments. Are 
they to be repudiated as artificial schematization, as an ille¬ 
gitimate attempt to modernize Isaiah? A formidable attack has 
been made in recent years upon the whole development of the 
neo-critical school, and before it is possible to rest at ease in its 
interpretation of Isaiah, it will be necessary to examine with 
some care this attack. 


70 


JOUllNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Table, illustrative of the Revision of cc. 1— 39. 




C. 1 

2 6—4 l 

5 1-29 „ 

6 1—8 18 (19-22) „ 

9 7—10 4 „ 


Chaps. 1—12. 

Judgment cancelled by 2 2-4 (5) Eschatological hope 


7 ? 


77 


77 


5? 


77 


4 2-6 

5 30 


77 


77 

77 

or 


9 1-6 (see 8 8b-io) „ 
10 5—12 6 


C. 1—9 as a whole culminating in cc. 10—12 




?7 


77 

77 

77 

57 


5 ? 


n 

Chaps. 13—27. 

Cc. 13—23 Judgments on the several nations, culminating in 
cc. 24—27, the Eschatological world-judgment. 

Note. 17 l-n cancelled by 17 12 - 14 , and compare 17 12-14 with 
8 8 b —10 and 29 5 - 8 . 


28 1-4 

28 7-22 

29 1-4 

29 9-15 

30 1-17 

31 1-4 


III 

Chaps. 28—35. 
Judgment cancelled by 28 5, 6 


55 

55 

55 

55 

55 


55 

55 

55 

57 

77 


7? 

77 

77 

77 

77 


Cc. 28—31 as a whole culminating in 


Eschatological hope 

28 23-29 

29 5-8 

29 16-24 

30 18-26, 27-33 

31 5-9 

cc. 32, 33 Append I 
cc. 34, 35 Append II 


77 

77 

77 

77 

77 


77 

77 

77 

77 

77 


IY 

Chaps. 36—39. 
Historical Narratives. 



FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 


71 


PART II 

THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL SCHOOL 

The Attempt to rehabilitate the Doctrines of the Messiah and 
the Inviolability of Zion as authentic Elements in Isaiah’s 
Teaching, and the renewed Emphasis upon the Supernaturalistic 

in Terms of the Mythological. 

I. Principles and Methods. Gunkel. 

If the attempt is made to sum up the chief characteristics of 
the neo-critical hypothesis so far as its results and its methods 
of arriving at them are concerned they are the following: 

1) The present book of Isaiah is a prophetic anthology in the 
compilation of which Isaiah himself had little share. 2) The 
evidence for this is found, at the outset, in two main groups of 
phenomena: a) in the presence of certain prophecies in cc. 1—39 
(the Babylonian) which cannot have been composed by Isaiah 
because of their historical backgrounds; and b) in the peculiar 
nature of the transitions between the prophecies of threat and 
consolation. These are not of the character that Isaiah himself 
would have been likely to make. Isaiah was a creative genius 
and a master stylist. He had full power to express his thoughts 
in the way he saw fit, whereas the transitions are artificial and 
suggest the hand of one who was working over material furnished 
by tradition. Moreover, in the most of these transitions a distinct 
tendency is observable, namely, to supply to the prophecies of 
woe consolatory additions. This purpose cannot be attributed 
to the prophet himself, for it results in a conscious cancellation 
of the threats by the hopes. 3) But it is conceivable that, while 
the present sequence of the oracles is not due to Isaiah, the 
consolatory passages themselves, or at least the greater part of 
them, may still be genuine. It may be conjectured that the hopes 
and the threats were spoken under different circumstances and 
were only at a later time brought together in their present 
singular sequences. The next step is, therefore, to examine each 
of the prophecies with respect to its genuineness. Again two 
lines of investigation are open, the literary and the historical. 


72 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


a) The literary investigation involves an examination of the style 
and vocabulary of the disputed prophecies. In what has pre¬ 
ceded, this argument has hardly been touched upon. This is 
because the argument, though yielding excellent results in the 
case of some of the prophecies (e. g. c. 4 or 29 16-24), is of much 
less certain application in the case of the more important ones. 

b) The historical investigation involves an examination of the 
historical background of the hope prophecies, and when that 
fails, as it usually does, an examination of their ideas. Could 
their ideas be understood in the age of Isaiah and were they 
likely to be entertained by him? 4) At first glance it might 
seem as if the task were a hopeless one. The danger of the 
vicious circle is obvious. Fortunately, however, there is a con¬ 
siderable body of material as to the genuineness of which there 
is universal agreement. This material is marked by a uniform 
style of the greatest originality and power. In subject matter it 
agrees with the commission given to the prophet in his inaugural 
vision to announce destruction to his nation. It also corresponds 
to the known political and religious situation in Isaiah’s times. 
In its political aspects this material regularly urges a policy of 
non-interference in world-politics. Religiously and ethically it 
castigates without mercy the sins and excesses in the national 
life. In view of the political antagonism to the prophet on the 
part of the king and people, reflected in this material and 
corroborated by the Assyrian inscriptions, which show that 
Judah inclined to follow a political policy the reverse of that 
advocated by Isaiah, and in view of the religious antagonism 
reflected in the same material with equal clearness, Isaiah’s 
anticipations of destruction are readily understood. Not so easy 
to understand are the groups of prophecies which deal with the 
Messianic King and the Inviolability of Zion. When judged by 
the admittedly genuine prophecies these prophecies come under 
the gravest suspicion. They are found to be out of harmony 
with Isaiah’s most characteristic thoughts and deepest convictions 
and at the same time with the needs of the political and religious 
situation in his day as he understood it. 5) But in proportion 
as they are out of touch with Isaiah’s own modes of thinking, 
they are in agreement with the hopes which prophecy cherished 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 73 


from the time of Ezekiel on. It is the prophecies of Ezekiel 
which form the great watershed between the pre-exilic and the 
post-exilic canonical eschatology. 138 The prophecies of eschatol¬ 
ogical hope in cc. 1—39 are in general accord with the ideas of 
Ezekiel and his successors. 6) It is this observation which has 
led to the neo-critical conclusion that the original Isaianic 
material has been surrounded by a great frame-work of eschatol¬ 
ogy which was constructed in the post-exilic period. 

In the mode of arriving at this conclusion three things are 
especially noteworthy, a) The neo-critical school operates chiefly 
with the criterion of ideas. If an idea is alien to Isaiah, it is 
concluded to be spurious and therefore later . b) But in operating 
with the criterion of ideas, the neo-critical school is operating 
in the sphere of psychology; its criticism may be called a 
psychologizing criticism. It seeks to explain the genesis of ideas, 
just so far as it can, out of known historical situations. Or when 
it pronounces an idea to be alien to Isaiah, this is also a 
psychologizing judgment ; the idea cannot be understood in the 
light of Isaiah’s other ideas or his mission to his generation, 
c) In the third place, the neo-critical school is primarily a school 
of literary, or, more precisely, documentary criticism. By this is 
meant that it has sought to explain the development of the 
religion of Israel out of the Old Testament itself. It has first 
attempted to disentangle the various documents now found in 
the Old Testament and then has attempted to date them. Next, 
it too often makes the assumption that the dates of the first 
literary expression of ideas are largely determined by the dates 

138 The substantial genuineness of Ezekiel is here assumed, in common 
with the great majority of scholars, and also the propriety of the dis¬ 
tinction of pre-exilic and post-exilic. The attack made upon this distinction 
in Professor Torrey’s brilliant Ezra Studies (cf. p. 289 especially) seems 
to me to be exposed to practically insurmountable difficulties. It certainly 
cannot be carried through so long as the substantial genuineness of Ezekiel 
is admitted. It is therefore very interesting to discover in a modest little 
foot-note, (p. 288. n. 8, cf. also his Notes on the A ramaic Part of Daniel , 
in Transactions of the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences, Yol. XY, 
p. 248, n. 1) that Ezekiel is relegated to the Greek period! Until that 
foot-note is established by a completely wrought-out argument, one may be 
permitted at this point in Judah’s history still to travel in the beaten paths. 


74 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


of the documents in which they occur. Thus the history of the 
religion of Israel has been very largely constructed on the 
theory that the relative position of an idea in the religious 
development is to be determined by the time of its first certain 
appearance in the literature. Again, and this is all-important, 
the place where an idea is supposed to appear for the first time 
with certainty is where it is found in a self-explanatory passage, 
where it is expressed in a distinct and intelligible fashion and is 
in some sort of an organic connection with its context. (Note 
the psychologizing interest at this point.) On the other hand, 
in case an idea happens to occur in two passages, if in one of 
them it is expressed intelligibly and in organic connection with 
its context and in the other only allusively and in a way that 
cannot be fully understood, the second passage is commonly 
held to be secondary to the first. If the allusive passage happens 
to be attributed to an author earlier than the time of the clear 
passage, then the inclination is to deny the authenticity of the 
allusive passage. We have seen how the anti-Assyrian passages 
in Isaiah were gradually weeded out because it was difficult to 
explain them out of Isaiah’s life-time, but easy to explain them 
out of Ezekiel’s. 139 

This method of utilizing the criterion of ideas has played a 
large part in the views of the Old Testament commonly accepted 
at the present time. And there is a good reason for this. In 
all historical study the documentary evidence, provided it exists 
at all, must be the controlling evidence. It is the first duty of 
the historian to register the phenomena of his documents and 
to start from these in any attempted reconstruction. Yet there 
are two other factors which must be reckoned with in estimating 
the value of the criterion of ideas. In the first place, an idea 
may be unintelligible or seemingly allusive because it is inchoate. 
When is an idea unintelligible because it is inchoate and when 
is it unintelligible because it is allusive ? To decide this question 
is not always easy. In the second place, the school of criticism 
which uses this criterion most freely also admits that the docu¬ 
ments we now have in the Old Testament represent only the 


139 Cf. Stade’s formulation of this principle above, p. 20 f., and n. 42. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 75 


wrecks of pre-exilic literature. But wlien this is recognized, the 
method of argument just described becomes at times somewhat 
precarious. 140 Of two passages in which the same idea occurs, 
will the allusive passage always be subsequent to the self-ex¬ 
planatory, and in case the allusive passage is ascribed to an 
earlier writer, must its genuineness necessarily be denied? May 
not both the allusive and the self-explanatory passage alike 
depend, at times, upon some primitive tradition, either written 
or oral, but now lost? In that case the origin of an idea may 
be, hypothetically, much earlier than the time of its first ap¬ 
pearance in a given document. Late documents may now be 
likened to fossil beds; the literary strata may be very late, but 
many ancient ideas may be found in them. 141 The criticism 
which thus seeks to get back of the documentary evidence in 
its investigation of the development of ideas may be called, for 
want of a better name, the archaeological school of criticism as 
distinct from the documentary. 142 Yet at one point the schools 
are in striking agreement. Both start from the assumption, usu¬ 
ally a correct one, that a passage in which an idea is only al¬ 
lusively or obscurely referred to is secondary. The difference 
between them lies in this, that, whereas the literary school tries 
to show that the allusive passage is secondary to some known 
document in which the idea is more clearly developed, the 
archaeological school raises the question whether both passages 
may not at times be secondary to a still earlier and undocum¬ 
ented tradition. The result of the application of this suggestion 
to the study of the religion of Israel in general or to Isaiah in 
particular may easily become revolutionary. For example, the 
neo-critical school argued that because an idea was ahen to 
Isaiah, therefore it was spurious and therefore later , but the 
archaeological school argues that, if an idea is alien to Isaiah, 
therefore it may be earlier. But if earlier, it is quite conceiv- 

no To take an illustration out of another field, an analysis of the 
development of the doctrine of the Trinity should not place too much 
weight on the fact, even though it is a very interesting one, that the word 
trinitas first occurs, so far as we know, in Tertullian (Ad Prax., c. 2). 

m Compare the “Priests Code”. 

1 42 See above, n. 3. 


76 


JOUBNAL OF BIBLICAL LITEEATUBE 


able that in spite of its alien character Isaiah may have 
borrowed it. The archaeological school thus seeks to develop 
the strategy of a flanking movement against the attack of the 
neo-critical forces. 

But this is by no means all of it. Has anything really been 
gained, it might be asked, for the defense of the disputed pas¬ 
sages in Isaiah? Is not the idea in question still alien and can 
it, therefore, even yet be admitted to be genuine? At this point 
the second main feature in archaeological criticism comes to 
view. It scorns the psychologizing of the neo-critical school. If 
it can only be once established that a given idea is older than 
Isaiah but is now’ found in Isaiah’s prophecies, its genuineness 
cannot be rejected just because it happens to be out of touch 
with Isaiah’s thinking. By the time it gets to Isaiah the idea 
may have lost its original meaning and become simply a con¬ 
vention and Isaiah may have used it without being aware of its 
real conflict with his views. Luther undoubtedly carried a large 
amount of Roman Catholic ballast over into Protestantism 
without being aware of its inner disagreement with his own 
fundamental conceptions. Why may not Isaiah have done the 
same? Thus the attempts of the neo-critics always to relate a 
given idea in Isaiah to his other ideas, and, if this cannot be 
done, to declare it to be spurious is, it is claimed, an illegitimate 
attempt at psychologizing. But how can it be proved that a 
given idea is earlier than Isaiah, or the eighth-century prophets? 
In certain cases, it is maintained, by a very easy method. If 
the idea is mythical , it is primitive and therefore pre-prophetic. 
At this point the archaeological school advances beyond the 
limits of the Old Testament into the field of comparative religions 
in order to point out analogies and show the essentially mythical 
character of certain ideas that had never before been suspected. 
Thus, over against the neo-critical insistence a) upon the crit¬ 
erion of ideas, b) upon their documentation within the Old 
Testament canon, and c) upon psychological considerations in 
the endeavor to relate them to each other, the archaeologists 
lay the emphasis a) upon the great body of undocumented 
tradition of which there are many hints in the documents them¬ 
selves, b) upon the larger background of ancient oriental thought 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 77 


outside the canonical scriptures, and c) upon the mythological 
character of much of this tradition and thought. In a word, 
where the neo-critic insists upon psychology, the archaeological 
critic is apt to insist upon mythology. Now the danger in archae¬ 
ological criticism is even more apparent than in literary criticism. 
As soon as the historian leaves his documents, he embarks on 
the uncharted sea of conjecture. Still, that is what Columbus 
did, and he discovered a continent. It remains to be seen whether 
the archaeological critic will he as successful. 

Gunkel may fairly he called the founder of the archaeological 
school. He was very happy in his choice of a field in which to 
try out the new method. “In his Schopfung unci Chaos in Ur- 
zeit und Endzeit (1895) he proved that in many passages in the 
Bible, and particularly in the first chapters of Genesis, there 
are borrowings, reminiscences, and allusions which can be traced 
to the Babylonian Cosmogonic Poems. The method he pursued 
was to take many phrases, words, and ideas in the Bible, and 
show that by themselves they w^ere unintelligible; to be under¬ 
stood they must be set in a larger context. The Babylonian 
creation epic furnishes this context. In the application of the 
method it appeared that many ideas which are now found only 
in late portions of the Bible and which, for this reason, were 
supposed to be themselves late, had a long antecedent history 
in Hebrew literature and tradition. Gunkel himself suggested 
that the same method should be applied to the subject of Hebrew 
eschatology generally, and in (Bousset und Gunkel) Forsclmngen 
zur Religion und Literatur des Alien und Neuen Testaments , 
Heft I (1903) he sketched out a history of the eschatological 
idea of the Day of the Lord on the basis of this new method 
of research. But it remained for Gressmann in his Unsprung 
cler israelitisch-judisehen Eschatologie (1906) to subject for the 
first time the whole problem of Old Testament eschatology to 
a reexamination in the light of Gunkel’s new method”. 143 But 
at the outset it should be observed that in dealing with the 
ecryara Gressmann is at a decided disadvantage as compared 
with Gunkel who dealt with the 7rpcora. Gunkel had actual 

143 See for the above paragraph the authors article in the Harvard 
Theological Review, Oct. 1913, p. 504. 


78 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


documents to fall back on, even if they were not biblical docu¬ 
ments. The Babylonian accounts of creation were in existence. 
But there is no epic of the end of the world. There is no 
eschatological myth as there is a creation myth, at least there 
is none such that is clearly recognizable. The application of 
the new method to eschatology is therefore beset with far more 
pitfalls than was its application to the creation myth. 

Now it is from the point of view of archaeological criticism 
that Gunkel and, especially, Gressmann attempt to defend the 
genuineness of those prophecies in Isaiah which the neo-critical 
school have so vigorously assailed. Into an examination of the 
various conjectures of these scholars, often brilliant, sometimes 
convincing, it is impossible to enter. It is enough to note that 
in the following four particulars which immediately concern us 
they have either proved their case or at least the benefit of the 
doubt may be allowed them. 1) They have proved with certainty 
that the doctrine of the Day of the Lord existed before Amos 
in a popular form. It w r as a day in which Jahweh was to deliver 
his people. The prophets moralized this popular nationalist doct¬ 
rine and turned the day of deliverance into one of destruction 
because of the people’s sins. 144 2) They have made probable 
the pre-prophetic 146 existence of the doctrine of the Remnant, 
also in a popular form in which Israel was the Remnant. This, 
of course, depends upon the genuineness and interpretation of 
Amos 5 15. The genuineness of this verse is not undisputed, yet 
usually accepted, as for example by even so radical a critic as 
Marti. Its interpretation is not so certain, but the interpretation 
by the archaeological school, according to which the Remnant 
is identified with Joseph, is certainly attractive. 3) They have 
also maintained the pre-prophetic character of the doctrine of 
the Messiah. This was supposed to be originally a mythological 
conception which later became attached to the Davidic dynasty 
and so historicised. A main proof for this thesis, and it is cert¬ 
ainly a striking one, is the connection of the Golden Age with 
the Twig of Jesse in Is. 11. 4) Finally, Gressmann has produced 

144 This much has always been recognized by the neo-critical school; 
the implications of Amos 5 is are too plain to be ignored. 

us ‘Pre-prophetic’ is used by Gressmann of the period before Amos. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OE ISAIAH 79 

considerable evidence that the Gog prophecy in Ezekiel is not 
simply “the child of reflection” which it is usually taken to be, 
but contains many mythological and therefore pre-historic ele¬ 
ments. But we have seen that the Messianic and especially the 
anti-Assyrian prophecies have been brought down to a later 
date partly because of their striking similarity to the tlieologou- 
mena of Ezekiel. Thus Gunkel and Gressmann seek to cut in 
behind the neo-critical school and to show that the main features 
of the eschatology of hope which were supposed to be late post- 
exilic are in reality early pre-prophetic, having existed in popular 
form long before the eighth-century prophets, and some of them, 
because of their mythological character, being even pre-historic. 
This position may be regarded as the major premise of the 
archaeological school. Granting it to be true for the sake of 
the argument, does the archaeological school provide an ad¬ 
equate system of defense based on this premise to meet the 
attack of the neo-critics? I shall confine myself in what follows 
to a discussion of Gressmann’s and Sellin’s positions because 
these have been the most elaborately worked out. 146 

II. Gressmann and Sellin. 

Gressmann begins by attacking the criteria utilized by the 
documentary school to cast doubt on the genuineness of the 
eschatology of hope. 1) In the first place, the criterion of lang¬ 
uage is inadequate, especially when drawn from a comparatively 
few verses. The justice of this criticism is increasingly recognized 
by scholars. Attention has already been called to the very sub¬ 
ordinate place the argument occupies in the discussion of the 
disputed doctrines in Isaiah. 147 2) The argument from difficulties 
in style, defective parallelisms etc. in the disputed prophecies is 
held to be equally unconvincing, for, it is claimed, the same 
phenomena meet us in the undisputed passages. This generaliz¬ 
ation needs considerable qualification. It is not true that the 
prophecies of doom, taken as a whole, are as stylistically de¬ 
fective as the prophecies of hope. The latter have not the charm 


n* See in particular Ursprung , pp. 238—250. 
1*7 See above p. 72. 


80 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


of “winged words” wliich is so characteristic of the genuine pas¬ 
sages. Further, Gressmann fails to draw a distinction between 
the stylistic defectiveness of a passage due to text-corruption 
and the stylistic defectiveness of a passage which is an inherent 
quality of it, where the stammering tongue betrays the stam¬ 
mering mind. 148 But the argument by which Gressmann seeks 
to support his criticism of the criteria of language and style is 
the really important thing. He claims that neither of these 
criteria can be successfully utilized because of the hopeless state 
of corruption of the original texts. This corruption is by no 
means due only to accident; it is attributable very largely to 
intentional changes. Even the original authors may have worked 
over their speeches and made them more prosaic! 149 One wonders 
just what the purpose of such a performance might be. “Again, 
later exegetes and copyists have remodeled the text... emending, 
supplementing, abbreviating, explaining . . . just as happens in 
hymn-books to-day” 160 . Thus the argument against the genuine¬ 
ness of a passage drawn from its vocabulary and style is met 
by the assertion that, owing to extensive textual changes both 
accidental and deliberate, it is difficult to say just what the 
vocabulary and style originally were. “Our attitude toward the 
text must be in principle suspicious”. 161 3) But a third objection 
is advanced, which is most far-reaching in character and leads 
from the criticism of the criteria of vocabulary and style to the 
criticism of the criterion of ideas. It is a consideration which 
seems to be advanced in order to meet the objection drawn 
from the fact that the Messianic passages were never referred 
to by Isaiah’s immediate successors. In the prophecies of hope, 
we are told, the prophets were peculiarly dependent upon the 
popular mythological eschatology: “The content is only to a 
limited extent their own original product; how far the form is 

148 Compare 2 6-22 (a badly corrupted text) with c. 4 (a badly cor¬ 
rupted style). 

149 Ur sprung, p. 240. 

iso Xb. 

151 lb. At this point Gressmann and Harold Wiener are remarkably 
alike in their apologetic method, though in everything else they are poles 
apart. 


FULLERTON I VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 81 


theirs we cannot know. But when we reflect how relatively 
many are the mythological elements contained in the few pas¬ 
sages of eschatological hope, we will not dare to deny that the 
prophets also depended in their expressions on their predeces¬ 
sors”. 152 From this alleged dependence upon the earlier eschato¬ 
logy Gressmann infers that we are not to expect a recurrence 
of their characteristic style and ideas, “since they are absolutely 
isolated, and speak of things which are never touched upon 
elsewhere in a peculiar way”. 153 

All this means, if the logic of Gressmann’s first three argu¬ 
ments is accepted, an almost total lack of originality in the 
hopes of the eighth-century prophets. The texts have been so 
badly preserved that we cannot be sure of what the original 
style was. And even when we get back to the approximately 
original texts, we find that both the style and ideas are borrowed 
from earlier undocumented sources. Gressmann arrives at the 
revolutionary conclusion that ideas no longer can serve as a 
critical criterion. The only valid criterion he admits is the 
historical background. 154 This means, in principle, the abandon¬ 
ment of most of the hard-won results of neo-criticism, which, as 
we have seen, operates principally with the criterion of ideas, 
the abandonment even of any attempt to criticise the tradition 
implied in the present position of a prophecy in a given book, 
unless its historical background is clearly proved to be later, as 
in the case of the Babylonian prophecies. Dogma in the guise 
of tradition is thus practically reinstated. But why is Gressmann 
so sceptical of the traditional text and so trusting with respect 
to the traditional arrangements of the canon? A classic illus¬ 
tration of the lengths to which our author is prepared to go is 
found in his treatment of Is. 9 i-6. 155 Gressmann’s analysis of 
the real character of this passage is probably correct. It is by 

152 p. 241. An admission, by the way, that the style in these prophecies 
did differ considerably from the style in the doom prophecies. 

153 P. 242. He says of Is. 9 l ff. that the earlier it is dated, the more 
likely it is to have preserved an ancient tradition which later faded away 
completely, p. 283. 

154 p. 243. 

155 P p . 279—284. 


6 


82 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


no means a self-explanatory passage and is full of difficulties 
on the supposition of its Isaianic authorship. These difficulties 
are fully admitted by Gressmann, but they make no more im¬ 
pression on his view of its genuineness than they would upon a 
post-Reformation theologian’s. The general style of the passage, 
we are told, is not Isaiah’s; it belongs either to the ‘court’ style 
or the ‘eschatological’ style, and in either case is borrowed from 
traditional formulas. The particular form of the passage must 
not be attributed to him; it is too loosely put together to be the 
work of such an excellent stylist. Lastly the ideas are not 
Isaiah’s; they are mythical and hence could not have originated 
with him, but must have been borrowed from primitive tradition. 
I have never before chanced upon an apologetic method which 
seeks to defend the genuineness of a passage by pointing out 
that in not one single particular has it any relationship to the 
reputed author’s style or thought. 156 Such a defense has the 
merit of originality, at any rate. Can the existence of a con¬ 
ventional style and a body of conventional ideas, by the assumption 
of which this astonishing result is achieved, really take the place 
of the coherence of thought which we have a right to expect in 
a man of Isaiah’s mental powers? This raises once more the 
question of the legitimacy of the criterion of ideas in critical 
discussion. But before this can be more fully treated it is 
necessary to consider the way in which Gressmann disposes of 
another objection raised against the genuineness of the hope 
prophecies by the documentary school. 4) This objection is drawn 
from the contexts of most of the disputed prophecies. They stand 
in the most impossible contexts, and from this their spuriousness 
has been inferred. Gressmann, as usual, admits the premise but 
denies the conclusion. He turns the argument in the same way 
as he sought to turn the preceding arguments. The lack of 
connections observable in the case of the hope prophecies are 
also seen in the case of the doom prophecies. All the prophetic 

156 Gressmann seeks to avoid the inevitable consequences of his position 
when be says: “Because of the dependence of the prophets upon such a 
conventionalized style, their originality, of course must not be minimized, 
though it cannot always be proved in detail” (p. 281). This assertion in 
general of what is denied in particular fails to carry any conviction. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 83 


utterances are fragmentary and unconnected. The analogy is 
drawn between them and the synoptic Gospels in which so 
many unconnected logia are found. 157 Thus Gressmann adopts 
the fragmentary hypothesis of Isaiah in its extremest form and 
makes capital out of it for his own purposes. Everything in the 
book being fragmentary, the argument from the lack of connection 
is claimed to be no longer pertinent. This counter is ingenious 
but not adequate. The neo-critical argument is not simply from 
the lack of connection, but from the contradictory character of 
the connection which is established in the present compilation. 
The analogy with the Gospels would be more exact if, after 
every passage which opposed the legalism of the Pharisees, we 
should find a passage which would support that legalism, such 
as we actually do find at Mt. 5 19 . The prophecies of hope not 
only lack organic connection with their contexts, they usually 
paralyse the prophecies of doom, and this is done so regularly 
as to appear to be deliberate. Gressmann feels this difficulty 
and introduces a new consideration in order to meet it, namely, 
Style. Possibly the juxtaposition of hope and doom “is the 
remnant of an eschatological style according to which the singer 
first recited a song that treated of the time of doom and in 
immediate connection therewith another song that glorified the 
time of blessing. We cannot adequately estimate the mighty 
'power of the Style”. 168 In the American Journal of Theology 
for 1913 (p. 176) Gressmann suggests a somewhat different 
explanation: “The promises are as different from the threats as 
love songs from funeral dirges. . . . But unless special reasons 
force us to do so, we have no right to establish a connection 
between a threat and a promise, for a poem rounded out in 
itself is not to be joined to another poem complete in itself. 
This simple consideration disposes of nearly all the arguments 
against the authenticity of... the Messianic hopes ... It is said 
the prophet could not threaten and promise at one and the same 
time. But he does not do so. The conjunction of the two is 
purely arbitrary. But there is no reason why a prophet should 
not threaten at one time and promise at another, just as the 
poet may now mourn the death of a friend and again sing as 
157 p. 289. 1 58 p. 244. 


6* 


84 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


a lover”. A simple consideration indeed! Granted that the 
poet may sing a dirge or a love-ditty at different times, 
is it his habit to combine them: dirge and ditty, dirge and 
ditty, dirge and ditty? Is it not possible to group poems 
of similar nature together? The compiler of the Lamen¬ 
tations certainly had a sense of the fitness of things and 
so did the compiler of Songs; if Lamentations and Songs 
were combined together, we would no doubt have a new and 
remarkable instance of Gressmann’s “style” and just about as 
intelligible as the examples we now find in Isaiah. But Gress¬ 
mann’s analogy breaks down at another point. Isaiah is neither 
a troubadour nor a professional elegist. He is a prophet, and 
a prophet who, on Gressmann’s own showing, took his work 
very seriously. The dirge-and-ditty theory cannot possibly apply 
to his work. Why should a prophet whose message is one of 
warning (c. 6) regularly accompany it with happy tunes. Is it 
conceivable that Isaiah deliberately set about to polarize his 
own lightning in this fashion? Even Gressmann seems to have 
qualms at this point. He is not quite clear at times as to whether 
the sequence of fear and hope is due to the original author or 
to the compiler. If the later alternative is adopted, Gressmann’s 
defense of the genuineness of the hope passages is seriously 
weakened. Once admit the compiler’s hand in these suspicious 
sequences, and the question will inevitably be raised whether 
his work consists only in arrangement. If the later revisers are 
ready to emend texts as freely as Gressmann admits, what is to 
hinder them from supplementing the ancient oracles by obser¬ 
vations of their own ? On the other hand, if the prophets them¬ 
selves were responsible for these sequences, is not their mental 
integrity seriously compromised? Thus far Gressmann has sought 
to meet (as I believe unavailingly) the argument from vocabulary, 
style, ideas, and contextual relationships against the genuineness 
of the hope prophecies. But there is a fifth argument against 
them which Gressmann admits to be the strongest of all. 5) The 
fact of the contradictory connections between the threats and 
the hopes cannot be properly estimated apart from the further 
fact that the eschatology of hope is in fundamental opposition 
to the eschatology of doom. In view of this second fact the 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 85 


present artificial connections between the two groups gains anew 
significance. It is noticeable that Gressmann does not bring these 
two objections together as he should do; he prefers to destroy 
them separately. In this he follows the Hengstenberg-Keil method 
of apologetic, which always went on the supposition that critical 
arguments follow the analogy of a chain which is destroyed when 
its separate links are broken, and not the analogy of a rope 
which is by no means rendered useless even though separate 
strands may be severed. But Gressmann places himself squarely 
on the neo-critical hypothesis that the pre-exilic prophets are 
messengers of doom, and he distinguishes these “stormy petrels” 
from those birds of calm, the post-exilic prophets who preach 
hope. However, says Gressmann, the prophets were after all 
human beings. They Avere patriots; they loved their nation. We 
cannot expect them to be everywhere and always absolutely 
logical. They must have yielded at times to the popular hopes. 
The few, and Gressmann admits there are but few, genuine pro¬ 
phecies of hope, are the concessions which they made to the 
popular eschatology. 159 This sounds plausible and psychologically 
quite intelligible as an abstract proposition. 160 It appeals to us 
of the present day. Moreover (and here Gressmann plays his 
trump card), the documentary critic must admit that at one 
point Isaiah actually took over one of the great doctrines in the 
eschatology of hope, namely the doctrine of the Remnant. But 
“with [the acceptance of] the doctrine of the Remnant, the rigid 
eschatology of doom is broken through. A breach has now been 
made through which the whole, or at least the greater part, of 
the eschatology of hope can enter. Whether a little more or a 4 
little less, that was left to the taste of the individual prophet”. 161 
Bud did Isaiah have a taste for the old popular eschatology of 
hope with its many mythical features, which Gressmann takes 
particular pains to tell us must be pre-prophetic because it 
could not possibly have arisen out of the advanced ethical theo¬ 
logy of the prophets? How are we to decide this question? We 

159 P. 242 ff., 236, 68. 

leo Perhaps at this point Gressmann himself does not escape the danger 
of modernizing the prophets which the neo-critics are supposed to run. 

tel P. 243. 


86 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


have just three data to guide us: a) The precise definition of 
his message given by the prophet himself in the account of his 
call (c. 6), namely, to announce the doom of the nation; b) the 
general historical and religious situation which is known with 
some particularity—a time of political crisis occasioned by the 
Assyrian advance and a time of ethical abuses and religious 
apostasy; c) finally, our estimate of the man’s creative power, 
which can be gathered from his undisputed prophecies and which 
show him to be a man of genius. Now, to hold that a man of 
such force and originality, a man, also, of such literary skill, 
profoundly convinced as he was of the people’s apostasy from 
God and with no evidence of their repentance, should be 
responsible for the artificial sequences of fear and hope existing 
in the present book is simply inconceivable. Scorn of psycho¬ 
logizing criticism and the suggestion that Isaiah is dependent 
in the present arrangement of his prophecies upon a prophetic 
style are trivial. The present connections cannot be his work. 
But once more the question presses: May the prophecies be by 
him even though the connections between them are not? Here 
the point urged by Gressmann must be admitted. Isaiah did 
borrow the thought of the Remnant in all probability out of the 
popular eschatology of hope. But this very example, instead of 
making in favor of Gressmann’s thesis, makes decidedly against 
it, for the thought of the Remnant, which seems to have been 
without any clear moral significance in the popular eschatology, 
has been moralized by Isaiah in exactly the same way as the 
popular eschatological doctrine of the Day of the Lord was 
moralized by Amos. When Isaiah adds his to *18# at 7 3 and 
follows this up by a promise of deliverance only on condition of 
faith (7 9), he has infused a profound moral meaning into the 
idea of the Remnant. The Remnant implies punishment for sin 
and is thus connected with the eschatology of doom; but the 
“shall return” implies repentance and thus the modulation from 
doom to hope which the Remnant idea implies is given a deeply 
ethical significance. 162 Thus, in the case of the Remnant, we 

162 Professor J. M. P. Smith’s recently proposed solution of the name 
"ixtp (ZATW, 1914, pp. 219—224) which robs it of its spiritual meaning, 
seems to me to be against the context with its insistence upon faith. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 87 


really have a detail out of the eschatology of hope taken over by 
the prophet but characteristically fused with his own distinctive 
doctrines. The contrast at this point with the disputed eschatolog¬ 
ical doctrines is most instructive. For example, if Isaiah had 
really adopted the doctrine of the Messianic King out of the 
tradition as Gressmann maintains, we would certainly expect 
him to have assimilated it to his own thinking more fully than 
according to Gressmann’s representations he actually did do. 
Our author’s interpretation of 7 14, 9 1 - 6 , 11 iff. is only a new 
confirmation of the neo-critical contentions that the idea of the 
Messiah was fundamentally alien to Isaiah’s thinking. Granted 
that he might have adopted such a doctrine out of the popular 
eschatology, would he not have excluded from it the mythical 
elements which in Gressmann’s view were attached to it and which 
conflicted with his theology ? Was he not a clear enough and logical 
enough thinker to do that? Gressmann himself speaks of the‘‘grand 
one-sidedness” of the eighth-century prophets. 163 They follow out 
a premise to its bitter conclusion. Are such men likely to con¬ 
fuse their thinking by the admission into it of popular elements 
which would compromise their theology and their exhortations 
at the same time? 164 What is true of the Messianic group is 
preeminently true of the anti-Assyrian group. They are much 
less moralized than the Messianic prophecies 165 and are admitted 

163 “The more we sink ourselves in them the more we discover upon 
what an isolated height they stand, in their grand one-sidedness without 
compare” (p. 141). 

164 It is not denied that there are certain moral features and that, 
too, attractive ones, in the portraiture of the Messiah in Is. cc. 9 and 11, 
but it is claimed the figure does not embody the peculiar religious and 
ethical interests of Isaiah in the way we would expect, if he was its 
painter (cf. above, pp. 37—40, 64). He does not relate the doctrine of the 
Messianic King to his message of doom, or to his doctrine of faith, or 
to his doctrine of of the Remnant. 

165 10 12 might be thought to inject a moralizing tone into the greatest 
of the anti-Assyrian prophecies and because of this it was defended by 
Hackmann (see above n. 107). But the style of the verse makes heavily 
against it and, further, it is interesting to observe how the chastisement 
of Judah is pushed into a subordinate clause. It becomes only a passing 
incident in the development of Jahweh’s plan which, when v. 12 is accepted 
as genuine, really culminates in the destruction of Assyria and the deliver- 


88 


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by Gressmann to be out of harmony with their contexts and with 
the essence of Isaiah’s message. 166 But we are asked to believe 
that he uttered these oracles, though they were opposed to his 
profoundest convictions and most prejudicial to the effect of his 
message, as concessions to the people, and because his patriotism 
and natural instincts prompted him to indulge in these fancies, 
and that the extent to which he indulged in them was only a 
matter of taste! This might do for other prophets, but not for 
Isaiah. In his case, if anywhere, the criterion of ideas would seem 
to be applicable. Judged by the commission originally given him, 
by the demands of his times, and by the creative power displayed 
in the undisputed prophecies, the unorganized and contradictory 
character of the eschatology of hope, exclusive of the Remnant 
idea, must arouse the gravest suspicion. Therefore, is not the 
neo-critical denial of its genuineness legitimate? By no means, 
says Gressmann. Such a conclusion ignores the fact of style. 

Style —that is the final word in Gressmann’s defense of the 
eschatology of hope in Isaiah. Let us see just how this golden 
key is perfectly fitted to unlock all the mysteries which have 
hitherto barred the way to an intelligible theory of Isaiah’s 
prophecies if the great body of cc. 1—39 is accepted as genuine. 
To begin with, while the disorganization of the eschatology of 
hope is admitted, we must not take it too seriously. The eschat¬ 
ology of doom is also fragmentary. But just as each half of the 
whole eschatological construction is disintegrated, so the con¬ 
nection between the two halves is disintegrated. Isaiah is not 
to be blamed for this state of affairs. Both the eschatology of 
doom and the eschatology of hope had already become disin¬ 
tegrated before they reached him. Gressmann assumes that in 
prehistoric times there was a great myth of the destruction of 
the world and its subsequent restoration, and that the eschat¬ 
ologies of doom and hope both go back to this myth. But by 
the time these fragments reached the prophets their original 
connections had been largely forgotten and they had ceased to 

ance of Judah, according to the present form of the chapter. 10 21-23 
can only he defended as Isaiah’s when separated from their anti-Assyrian 
context, and even then they are very doubtful. 

166 Cf. pp, 177—179 with special reference to 89 L, 17 11 ff., 29 7 . 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 89 


have any clear and definite meaning. Their ideas had become 
transformed in the popular eschatology into mere conventions, 
in other words into a style! Because the prophets adopted these 
faded-out mythological ideas and the technical terms in which 
they were expressed from tradition as a part of a conventional 
eschatological apparatus, they did not trouble themselves about 
the exact meanings either of the ideas or the terminology, and 
for the same reason the modern exegete is absolved from all 
responsibility to discover the original meaning of many of these 
eschatological details. It is not necessary, we are told, for a 
style to have any meaning. 167 Thus mythology, faded-out into 
a convention, a style, takes the place of psychology in criticism 
and interpretation. 168 How far Gressmann is willing to drive 
this argument at times is seen in his exposition, if it can be 
called such, of Is. 7 14. The prophet was using materials furnished 
by the tradition, which had ceased to have any clearly defined 
meaning. Thus all the difficulties which have from time im¬ 
memorial plagued the psychologizing exegesis in its attempts to 
find a meaning in this passage are airily brushed aside by the 
assumption that the ideas in this oracle had little meaning for 
Isaiah himself. The ideas had already become very largely only 
style for Isaiah; they need remain only style for us also. 169 

167 “Where there is a style no one asks whether is has any sense or 
not” (p. 256, cf. 277, 811). 

168 Compare for the substitution of mythology for psychology pp. 193, 
195, 196, 198, 216, 244, 253, 255 etc. 

169 Cf. pp. 270—278 “As soon as one assumes that the material is 
borrowed by Isaiah from the tradition, one is relieved of the above- 
mentioned difficulties [i. e. the difficulties which have always been found 
in the Immanuel prophecy]. For from now on one need no longer attach 
any importance to details, because they are not created ad hoc but are 
handed down in the tradition” (p. 276 f.). It is this utter irresponsibility 
in the exegesis of the archaeological school which must be deplored. 
There is undoubtedly a truth in this discovery of a style which must 
be reckoned with. Gressmann makes very suggestive use of it in his 
treatment of the idea of the Day of the Lord as expressed in Is. 2. But 
the fact of style is a fact which must be handled with the greatest care, 
or it will land him who trusts to it in absurdity. Style is a fire lit to 
consume away exegetical briars and thorns, but it soon gets beyond 
control, if one is not very careful. 


90 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


But why did the prophet resort to these conventional ideas 
and this meaningless terminology? It was in order to lend his 
thoughts impressiveness. He spoke ev fjLvcrTtjpLuo. Can such 
suggestions really relieve the difficulties of 7 14? Can it be 
supposed that at one of the greatest crises of Isaiah’s life, when, 
if ever, a message of vital significance was to be expected from 
him, the prophet was ready to indulge in abracadabra? The fact 
is, the more Gressmann resorts to style in his defense of the 
disputed passages, the more he is unconsciously driven to revive 
the patristic theory of prophecy in a new form. Clement of 
Alexandria compares Isaiah to the Pythian Apollo who is called 
Loxias, a title supposed to signify ‘oblique’, 170 and Tertullian 
tells us that “God conceals by his preparatory apparatus of 
prophetic obscurity, the understanding which is open to faith”. 171 
But is it really credible that a man of such mental integrity and 
profound seriousness of purpose as Isaiah would cultivate a 
prophetic style at the expense of prophetic sincerity? A defense 
of the genuineness of the disputed passages in which mythology 
and style have become substituted for moral meaning and co¬ 
herence of thought is one which can afford little comfort, I 
fancy, to those who are still looking for some cement with which 
to mend the shattered unity of Isaiah. 

But has this defense any scientific advantage over the hypo¬ 
thesis of the neo-critical school? Is it really more probable that 
the disjecta membra of the eschatology of hope were borrowed 
by Isaiah himself and scattered through his prophecies in the 
weird fashion in which we now find them, than that they were 
incorporated by editors of a later day? At this point Gress- 
mann’s own admission of revision threatens to undermine the 
defense which he has so laboriously built up. 6) “A final 
judgment [upon the question of genuineness] will be possible 
only when we get a clear idea of the literary composition of the 
prophetical books, and of the principles by which the sayings 

170 Stromata , V. 4. 

171 Against Marcion, IV. 25. It is interesting to see how followers 
of the Gunkel-Gressmann method also go back at times to the theory of 
the double sense of Scripture without being aware of it. Cf. Herrmann, 
Der Messias aus Davids Geschlecht, ZWTh, 1909, p. 264. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 91 


have been arranged.” 172 This statement of Gressmann is fun¬ 
damental. The question of the genuineness of the disputed 
prophecies is bound up with the question of an adequate theory 
of compilation. Such a theory the neo-critical school actually 
offers; the critical movement culminates in it, 173 but such a theory 
the archaeological school fails to offer. Yet the astonishing thing 
is that Gressmann unhesitatingly adopts the premises upon 
which the neo-critical theory of revision is based, a) As we have 
seen, he admits the most extensive revision in the text. But if 
the texts can be so drastically edited, may not the contents of 
certain passages also be due to later compilers? Is it not easier 
to suppose that the incongruous eschatological passages were 
inserted during the changed conditions after the exile than that 
Isaiah was guilty of such hackwork? b) This supposition is 
strengthened by another observation for which Gressmann is 
indebted to his opponents. He realizes how small a part the 
eschatology of hope plays in pre-exilic prophecy, but how it 
absorbs the attention and becomes more coherent in post-exilic 
prophecy. “What a strange riddle,” he exclaims, “first the ruin 
[the fragmentary eschatology of the pre-exilic period], then the 
stately castle [the organized eschatology of the post-exilic 
period]”. 174 How is this to be explained? It must be due, we 
are told, to two migrations of eschatological material into 
Palestine, one in prehistoric times, upon the fragments of which 
the early prophets depended, the second much later, when the 
fusion of oriental religions was much more pronounced. 175 But 
has not Gressmann endangered the success of his whole campaign 
by this admission? In attempting to flank the neo-critical attack 
by the assumption of a pre-prophetic eschatology, has he not 
exposed his own flank to a very dangerous counter attack? He 
admits the fact of later extensive revisions, and the fact that 
when they were made the interest in the eschatology of hope 
was paramount. What, then, is more natural than the neo- 

172 p. 243. 

173 See above p. 69. 

174 P. 247. 

i”5 Gressmann admits bis indebtedness to Gunkel for this suggestion. 
See p. 247, n. 1. 


92 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


critical theory, according to which the revision was made in the 
interest of this dominant eschatology? Gressmann is on the 
watch for just this use of his admissions. He answers: “One 
might be able to regard the mythical elements in the eschatology 
of hope which, in themselves, must be ancient, as possibly a 
post-exilic dependence of Israel upon another people; but these 
mythical fragments of the eschatology of hope are inseparably 
connected with the eschatology of doom. The Israelite religion 
would be an insoluble enigma if the two eschatologies .... which 
belong to each other as the two shells of a clam, had migrated 
into Israel at different times. With what probability could it be 
supposed that the Israelites borrowed all that was connected 
with doom before the exile and all that was connected with hope, 
carefully sifted from the doom, after the exile?” 176 This posing 
of the question, so far as it concerns the problem of the disputed 
passages in Isaiah, is entirely misleading. It leaves out of con¬ 
sideration another alternative. The question is not whether all 
doom entered Israel before the exile and all hope after it; it is 
whether, granted a pre-prophetic eschatology of hope as well as 
of doom, Isaiah absorbed the former as well as the latter. It is 
not only conceivable that Isaiah may have resisted the encroach¬ 
ments of the eschatology of hope, but altogether probable that 
he did do so. The incongruity of the eschatology of hope both 
with Isaiah’s thought and in the arrangement of his prophecies 
is admitted by Gressmann. Is the creative genius of Isaiah so 
powerless in the presence of this traditional material as Gress- 
mann’s representations would imply? Gressmann is fond of 
picturing the various elements in the eschatology of hope as 
isolated stones or columns, the fragmentary ruins of a once 
glorious temple. 177 Is Isaiah so unimaginative an architect that 
he cannot build these fragments up again into something like 
unity, if he cared to do so? One of these fragments is the 
doctrine of the Remnant, and this fragment Isaiah did use most 
effectively. Why did he not use the doctrines of the Inviolability 
of Zion and the Messianic King in the same artistic way instead 
of in the mechanical way which Gressmann compels us to assume? 

*7« p. 245. 

t77 P. 238, cf. 232, 191. 


fullebton: viewpoints in ti-ie DISCUSSION OE ISAIAH 93 


What Gressmann’s theory amounts to when reduced to its 
simplest terms is just this: He has substituted for the criterion 
of ideas a blind faith in tradition. Because the disputed doctrines 
are found attributed to Isaiah in the present anthology known 
as the Book of Isaiah, therefore they are by Isaiah. The utter 
confusion and disorganization in the book and in Isaiah’s 
message which this tradition implies are of no moment. Their 
evidence can be explained away by the newly discovered solvent 
of all critical difficulties—Style. Once more the question must be 
pressed: Can such a theory have any scientific advantage over 
the theory of the neo-critical school? 178 

178 At this point an adequate criticism of Sellin’s work, Der alt- 
testamentliche Prophetismus, ought to be introduced, but limitations of 
time and space prevent any detailed discussion of it. A few remarks 
upon his general method and aims must suffice. 1) Sellin is an ardent 
champion of the archaeological method and with all Gressmann’s zeal 
seeks to deduce from present documented obscurities earlier undocumented 
ideas. He is therefore an opponent of psychologizing in exegesis (cf. the 
discussion of principles, pp. 105—112, 167 f.) and an advocate of style 
(cf. p. 170). 2) But at an all-important point he introduces a modification 
of Gressmann. Gressmann operated extensively with mythology; eschato¬ 
logy for him, both in its threats and in its promises, was rooted in 
mythology. The most convincing proof that Gressmann has to offer that 
eschatology is pre-prophetic is the fact that it is mythological. But Sellin 
seems instinctively to feel the difficulty at this point. The more the 
mythological character of eschatology is emphasized, in order to prove 
its pre-prophetic origin, the less likely it becomes that the prophets would 
make use of it. Hence Sellin labors to substitute morals for mythology 
in the pre-prophetic eschatology. Sellin will have nothing to do with 
Gressmann’s primeval eschatological myth which reached Israel in a 
thoroughly disintegrated state. Eschatology goes back to the experiences 
at Sinai. From the outset Jahweh has the quality of a world-king, but 
his kingship was to be only gradually manifested. “The origin of the 
entire Old Testament eschatology is found in the act of revelation at 
Sinai, through which the germinal hope of a future analogous appearance 
of Jahweh for the purpose of entering on his world rule, was implanted 
deep in the heart of the people” (p. 148). At the conquest Jahweh’s 
kingship was partially manifested, but under the Canaanite and Philistine 
oppression it was gradually realized by the more thoughtful that its 
complete manifestation was still in the future (cf. p. 184, a lapse into the 
sin of psychologizing against which Sellin should have more carefully 
guarded himself). As king, Jahweh was to exercise the functions of 


94 


JOUBNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Conclusions. 

But are we, then, to conclude that Gressmann’s brilliant 
monograph is only a meteoric flash in the exegetical firmament? 
Ear from it. Gressmann’s defense of the disputed prophecies in 

Judge and Savior, two thoughts which provide the basis for the eschato¬ 
logies of doom and hope. These are no longer regarded as disconnected; 
they are united in the idea of Jahweh’s functions as king (p. 182), and 
as the judgment and salvation are moralized by Sellin, the eschatology 
which is based on them also becomes moralized. The evidence for all 
this is admitted to be most meagre (p. 184 f.), and it may be added that 
such evidence as is offered is of a highly questionable character. Further¬ 
more, Sellin’s attempt to banish all mythology behind the mountain 
barrier of Sinai breaks down. To be sure, he tries to destroy the life of 
any myths that might chance to cross this mountain wall and to turn 
them into dead pictures and metaphors, and he suggests that most of the 
eschatological hopes take their coloring not from myths but from the 
historical experiences at Sinai and at the conquest of Palestine (cf. 146 ff., 
167). But he admits that it is difficult to distinguish at times between 
the mythical and what he calls the historical (p. 147). In the case of the 
Messiah the distinction completely breaks down. Sellin finds the roots 
of the doctrine of the Messiah in the ancient oriental conception of a 
primeval man, a Paradise-King. But he must resort to hypothetical 
extra-biblical sources for this conception, since he admits it is not found 
in the account of Paradise in Gen. 2 and 3 (p. 183). 3) Sellin does not 
discuss the problem of the doctrine of the Inviolability of Zion, for, 
strictly speaking, it hardly belongs to his particular subject. Apart from 
the above very questionable speculations, he seeks to prove the ancient 
character of the Messianic idea from three groups of passages: a) Is. 7 14, 
which refers to the well-known ‘almah of the eschatological tradition 
(cf. Gressmann), 9 iff., 11 iff.; b) the royal psalms, which, it is claimed, 
can only be explained by the supposition that the eschatological style has 
been adopted into the court style, and therefore, because these royal psalms 
must be pre-exilic, the eschatological style which they imply must be still 
earlier; and c) such passages as Gen. 49 10 , the Balaam oracles, and 
Dt. 33 13 ff. (pp. 167—172). Sellin’s use of Is. 7 14 is like Gressmann’s 
and that has already been sufficiently considered. The last group of 
passages will be considered hereafter, and it will be shown that they make 
against the originality of the Messianic hopes in Isaiah. The argument 
for the early date of the doctrine of the Messiah drawn from the royal 
psalms is of the most precarious character, but even if it is granted, it 
cannot be used to support the genuineness of the disputed passages in 
Isaiah any more than Gen. 49 19, the Balaam oracles and Dt. 33 13 (see 
below). 4) And here we arrive at the fundamental weakness of Sellin’s 


fulleeton: viewpoints in the DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 95 


Isaiah is a failure; yet I believe archaeological criticism, when 
soberly used, will prove to be a valuable corrective to the method 
of documentary criticism. He has established with great prob¬ 
ability the fact of a mythological background for eschatology 
and therefore a background of high antiquity, out of which much 
that has hitherto escaped attention gains a new significance and 
much that has been a source of perplexity is explained. If the 
fact of a pre-prophetic eschatology is once accepted and com¬ 
bined with one further fact to which Gressmann calls attention, 
an entirely new perspective is opened up in which to view the 
problem of Isaiah. The passage in which this combination is 
made is so important that I venture to quote it at length. “Since 
eschatology is earlier than Amos, there must have once existed 
before our canonical worthies certain prophetical schools which 
glorified the eschatological facts in word and song. The Nebi’im 
emerge in Samuel’s day. In their circles ecstasy was cultivated, 
which flamed out especially at times of national excitement. 
Keligious patriotism was constantly kindled anew by these men, 

book. He assumes that, if once the pre-prophetic date of the Messianic 
eschatology is accepted, the genuineness of the disputed passages in 
Isaiah has been established. “We are certain”, he says, “that this ex¬ 
pectation [of a Messiah] is primitive, already in existence in the prophetic 
period, and that in consequence the Tradition as to the origin of the most 
of the Messianic passages in the scriptures of this period is trustioorthy v 
(p. 172, see above, p. 93). In view of this assumption, Sellin feels 
himself to be relieved of the obligation to discuss what we have seen to 
be the controlling factor in the whole problem, namely the peculiar 
method of compiling the Book of Isaiah. This point is referred to but 
once, so far as I have observed, and then very briefly. Sellin advances 
the two explanations already proposed by Gressmann (see above, p. 82 ff.). 
Either the prophecies of threat and hope were uttered at different times 
and were later brought together by compilers, or it may have been a 
“poetic-prophetic” style to connect them as they are now connected (p. 149). 
It is unnecessary to repeat the criticisms already passed upon these 
suggestions. In Sellin’s work we have only one more example of the 
tendency of thought to move in cycles and return to its original starting- 
points. Gressmann sought to defend the originality of the Messianic 
passages by the archaeological method of exegesis and the assumption 
of a great pre-historic eschatological myth. Sellin adopts the exegetical 
method, rejects the myth in part and goes back only to Sinai. It remains 
for a still more resolute spirit to rehabilitate Hengstenberg’s Christologie. 


96 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


and at times they took a hand in the political crises. These 
pre-canonical and extra-canonical prophets were half politicians, 
half soothsayers; only we must deny to them on the average the 
ethical and religious greatness of our prophets. Although it is 
not recorded, there is nothing to hinder the supposition that 
the Nebi’im already cultivated eschatology 179 and handed down 
the stylistic forms which the canonical prophets made use of. 
From whom should the latter have received their traditions, if 
not from those who bore the same name with them? We must 
. . . hold that in the ancient period . . . the Nebi’im cultivated 
eschatology in its entirety, but in the form which we have 
characterized as popular. Afterwards, beginning with Amos, a 
cleavage arose within prophecy, in consequence of which the 
prophetical development ran parallel to the popular develop¬ 
ment”. 180 This passage gives food for thought. Gressmann makes 
use of it to defend the eschatology of hope in Isaiah. Granted 
the existence of both a pre-prophetic eschatology of hope and 
also of doom, which “belong together like the two shells of 
a clam, how should one group of the prophets have sung ex¬ 
clusively of disaster while the other group sang exclusively of 
hope”? 181 But may not the argument be just reversed, and 
the connection established by Gressmann between uncanonical 
prophecy and the eschatology of hope be an additional argument 
against its genuineness? Here the following facts are to be 
considered. 

1) Gressmann points out how the uncanonical prophets prob¬ 
ably utilized the current eschatology in an aggressive nationalistic 
interest. 182 They were the one hundred per cent patriots of their 
day. Isaiah, like Jeremiah, was nothing of the kind. Throughout 
his life he was opposed to the political ventures of Judah. Would 
such a man have a “taste” for an eschatology that was proclaimed 
in the interest of a dangerous nationalism ? 2) Again, Gressmann 
argues that because the doom and the hope sides of eschatology 
belong to each other as the two shells of a clam, it is unlikely 

179 The priests may also be included (cf. Yolz, ThLZ 1906, Col. 676). 

180 p. 155 ff. 

181 Pp. 156, 245. 

1 82 See also above, n. 95, end. 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 97 


that the uncanonical and the canonical prophets, like the walrus 
and the carpenter, divided up the bivalves so exactly between 
them. 183 But elsewhere, when Gressmann wishes to account for 
the present impossible sequences in Isaiah, he is at pains to 
demonstrate that the original connection between the two clam¬ 
shells had been completely broken down and the prophets them¬ 
selves were no longer conscious of it. In that case Isaiah may 
very easily have selected those elements in the popular eschato¬ 
logy which could be made to emphasize his message and have 
rejected those elements which confused it. 3) As a matter of 
fact, that is just what he did do in the case of the doctrines of 
the Day of the Lord and the Bemnant. He reformulated them 
in opposition to the popular eschatology. Was it likely that he 
would insert into his great prophetic construction still other 
blocks of the eschatology of hope without attempting to square 
them off into some sort of symmetry with the rest of his material? 184 
On the contrary, if Gressmann’s theory of the existence of a 
popular pre-prophetic eschatology is accepted, have we not a 
new gauge of the forcefulness and originality of Isaiah? He 
resisted the temptation to yield to the pseudo-patriotism of his 
day or to encourage its false hopes. Thus Gressmann supplies 
just the background needed to throw the isolated grandeur of 
our prophet into strong relief. But he does something more 
than this. 4) His theory of a pre-prophetic popular eschatology 
furnishes at once a needed corrective and a welcome support 
to the neo-critical theory of the compilation of Isaiah. This 
theory tended to transfer all the eschatology of hope to the 
exilic or post-exilic periods. The result was that the Messianic 
eschatology appeared to be too much of a surprise in the historical 
development. It arose too suddenly, was too little prepared for; 
hence the attempt in the neo-critical school to explain it as a 
‘child of reflection’. Gressmann’s protest against this is timely. 
He calls attention to many elements in the eschatology of hope 

183 p. 156. 

184 It is interesting to observe bow Sellin (pp. 186—190) admits that 
Isaiah and the other prophets set much of their own eschatology into 
the sharpest antithesis to the popular eschatology, but in the case of the 
Messiah this was not done. Why not? 


7 


98 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


(especially the golden age) which cannot well be so explained. 
The documentary critics, or at least their popularizers, have 
too often made the same mistake here as they have made in the 
case of the P material. Because its present form and meaning 
are late, the fact is often overlooked that a large part of its 
contents is not only pre-exilic but actually primitive in origin. 
Grressmann’s investigations supply the means by which the post- 
exilic eschatology can be recognized as organically connected 
with the past without at the same time endangering the neo- 
critical theory. They go to show that the Messianic eschatology 
had its roots sunk deep into the past, though they were sunk, 
not in the soil of pre-exilic canonical prophecy as Gressmann 
and Sellin maintain, hut in the soil of pre-exilic uncanonical 
prophecy. 185 Even in that case it sprang out of the deep rich 
soil of history and was not simply the fruit of reflection. It is 
not only conceivable but highly probable, in view of what has 
been said, that Amos, Isaiah, and Micah, and possibly Hosea, 
set their faces as a flint against the popular eschatology of their 
day, whereas the later prophets may not have done so as consist¬ 
ently. 186 The changed historical situation would easily account 

185 When Volz (pp. 74—78) suggested that the doctrine of the Messiah 
appeared in connection with the Deuteronomic reforms, he, too, evidently 
felt the difficulty of supposing that it sprang into existence fully developed, 
and therefore he suggested that this doctrine had been previously cultivated 
by the uncanonical prophets (pp. 88, 91). 

186 In this connection I would raise the question whether a much 
larger amount of material in the Old Testament than is commonly sup¬ 
posed did not originate within the circles which we are accustomed to 
characterize as uncanonical prophets. Strictly speaking, the use of the 
terms ‘canonical’ and ‘uncanonical’ prophets is inaccurate in this con¬ 
nection. At the time when this material was composed there was of 
course no division between canonical and uncanonical prophets, for there 
was as yet no canon. Our prophets speak of their opponents as ‘false’ 
prophets. But would the distinction between the false and the true prophets 
have always been obvious to contemporaries? By no means. Furthermore 
it would be as much against historical analogy to suppose that all the 
prophets of the eighth century were bad except Amos, Hosea, Isaiah and 
Micah as it would be to suppose that all Pharisees in New Testament 
times were bad. There must have been gradations of all sorts within 
the general movement of prophecy. Amos, Hosea, Isaiah and Micah 
were fpur individuals within this general movement, who held a common 

•r 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 99 


for the changed attitude, and from the time of Ezekiel on, the 
eschatology of hope could easily gain an ascendency over the 
eschatology of doom. The development of Messianic eschatology 

point of view. But it was a minority point of view, and so far as we 
can gather it had little effect upon their contemporaries. There must 
also have been a considerable literature representing majority opinions. 
Just because it did represent majority opinion, that is, current opinion, 
it could easily lapse into the anonymity which is the usual characteristic 
of Semitic literature. On the other hand, the very fact that the writings 
of the four great prophets differed so startlingly from the writings of 
their contemporaries would tend to the preservation of the names of 
their authors, especially when their attitude was, at least, in part, justified 
by the events. Now the point of all this is, that it is altogether probable 
that we have also preserved to us prophecies or poetry which represented 
the majority views. Sachsse, who admits gradations among the uncanonical 
prophets {Die Propheten des A. T. und Hire Gegner , p. 8) should go further 
and also admit gradations in the prophetical literature which afterwards 
became canonized. The fact that the majority views were not always 
vindicated by the event would by no means signify that they would be 
ultimately repudiated altogether. They expressed the general hopes and 
beliefs of the people, and people are not so ready to give up what they 
like, even though they have incurred disappointments in holding on to 
it. One clear case of a prophecy representing the popular point of view, 
though out of a somewhat later time, is that of Nahum. There are also 
a few precious fragments out of a much earlier time which reflect the 
same general point of view. These are the poems or prophecies upon 
which Gressmann and Sellin especially rely to prove a pre-prophetic eschat¬ 
ology of hope. They are Judges 5, Gen. 49, Dt. 38 and the Balaam 
oracles (Numbers 23, 24). These fragments are generally supposed to 
antedate the prophetic movement. In all of them a very intense nation¬ 
alism is expressed. Now it is a striking fact that instead of building 
upon the ideas in these fragments, our eighth-century prophets are in 
violent opposition to them. Indeed, it almost seems, at times, as if they 
were consciously preaching against them. The significance of this anti¬ 
thesis so far as I have observed has been largely overlooked, a) Compare 
the blessings upon Joseph in Gen. 49 25-26 and Hosea’s terrible curses in 
9 li, 12 , 14 , 16 , and 10 l, 13 l. b) Compare Dt. 33 17 and 1 Kings 22 n. The 
passage in Kings, even though it may be much later than the eighth- 
century prophecy, reflects quite accurately the opposition of that prophecy 
to what it considered to be false prophecy, c) I would call especial 
attention to Nu. 23 21 b, according to which the claim is made that Jahweh 
is with Israel, contrasted with the exhortation in Amos 5 14 , “Let Jahweh 
God of Hosts be with you as ye have said The contradiction is not 
only in idea but in the words themselves, d) Finally compare Nu. 23 9b 


» ) 9 

> ) * 


100 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


would then be precisely analogous to the development of the 
Law. This, too, as cult practice, originated in primitive times. 
The early prophets denounced it in the most uncompromising 
terms. Yet it managed to secure a good orthodox position 
within the canon later on. 187 Similarly, we may surmise, the 
eschatology which had been repudiated by the earlier prophets 
of the eighth century was gradually adopted by the prophets of 
later ages. As prophecy in spite of its great leaders made terms 
with the Law in Deuteronomy, so it made terms with eschat¬ 
ology in the post-exilic period. We need not predicate two 
distinct migrations of eschatology as Gressmann does, one very 
ancient and the other in post-exilic times. Rather, the ancient 

with the prologue to Amos. In the Balaam oracle there is the most 
intense national self-consciousness and feeling of superiority to other 
nations; in Amos Israel is included in the common doom of the nations 
(Amos 1 and 2). In all these early poems nationalism is highly developed; 
it is the stock in trade of the majority prophets from the time of Jonah 
the son of Amittai (2 K. 14 25 ) to the time of Jeremiah’s opponents. But 
it is this very nationalism that is rebuked by eighth-century prophecy 
and later by Jeremiah. Accordingly, these poems are the last places to 
look for support in defending the eschatology of hope in eighth-century 
prophecy. On the contrary, the prophetic opposition to them shows how 
unlikely it would be for the prophets to share their hopes. If Sellin’s 
view could be proved, that the royal psalms were early and had borrowed 
a still earlier eschatological style, the prophets would be found in the 
same opposition to them as to these other poems. 

187 This analogy was first suggested to me by Professor J. M. P. Smith 
in a personal conversation in which I was sketching out to him the 
general positions advanced above. In this connection the statement of 
Stade is important: “The reconciliation of the prophetic thoughts about 
religion with the popular thoughts and customs is completed in the exile” 
(Biblische Theologie I. p. 209). This statement applies to eschatology as 
well as to the cult. When Stade says that the catastrophe of the Exile 
led to the rejection of the prophecies of Jeremiah’s opponents, so that 
nothing of this literature has come down to us (p. 216), he goes too far. 
The ideas of Jeremiah’s opponents certainly persisted after a fashion, 
and at least some of the still earlier literature which reflected the same 
doctrines may well have been preserved. Its antiquity would clothe it 
with sanctity. The Psalter is the great store-house of this popular eschat¬ 
ology in the post-exilic period. In the Psalter the tendencies of legalism, 
majority prophecy and minority prophecy are found in the most inter¬ 
esting juxtaposition. 


■1 , 

O »• 

V K >> 


FULLERTON: VIEWPOINTS IN THE DISCUSSION OF ISAIAH 101 


eschatology, suppressed for a time by the stern puritanism of 
the early prophets, gradually worked its way to the surface in 
their post-exilic successors 188 and became particularly influential 
in the revision of the ancient texts. 189 As has often happened in 
the history of religion, the popular, the superficial, the dogmatic, 
triumphed over the essential, the inward, the spiritual. The 
early prophets did not make concessions to popular hopes, but 
prophecy in its later developments did do this. Prophecy was 
many-sided, but the early prophets were one-sided. They drove 
their ethical premises to the limit. Therein they were not modern, 
and it is at this point that we must be on our guard against 
the temptation to modernize them. Their ethical abandon had, 
as Holscher well brings out, a touch of the ancient nabi’ in it, 
his intenseness, his ecstatic temperament. 190 That interpretation 
which emphasizes the ethical and spiritual in them rather than 
the supernaturalistic and apocalyptic is not an attempt to 
modernize them, but is a hard-won recognition of their real 
character. They were the great protesters. They protested 
against magic and sorcery, that is, against the superstition of a 
materialistic spiritism, against the popular morals of the time, 
against the popular cult, against the popular eschatology and 
most important of all, though it has been largely overlooked, 
against the popular political nationalism which is implied in 
that eschatology. In these respects their message still claims 
attention. In fact, none is more sorely needed at the present 
time. And among all who first proclaimed this message Isaiah 
is the chief. 

188 Of. also Sellin, p. 189. 

189 This possibility Sellin pays no attention to on p. 189 or 191, where 
he rejects Gressmann’s theory of two migrations. 

is° Die Profeten , p. 204. 


102 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


THE ORIGIN OF JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 

NATHANIEL SCHMIDT 

CORNELL UNIVERSITY 

E SCHATOLOGY is the doctrine concerning the last things 
(rd lo-xara, novissima, JYHntfn). It deals with man’s condition 
after death, the destiny of nations, and the end of the world. The 
Oxford dictionary defines it as “the department of theological 
science concerned with ‘the four last things’: death, judgment, 
heaven and hell”. This is obviously too narrow a definition. 
In so far as eschatology has to do with religious ideas it is, 
indeed, a part of theology. But even without religious stimulus 
man’s mind projects itself into the future as well as into the 
past. His scientific study of nature and his philosophy are as 
likely as his religion to occupy themselves with things to come. 
In the field of religious eschatology there are more things than 
the four mentioned. Even in Jewish and Christian eschatological 
thought, a place should he given to such conceptions as the 
Messiah, the kingdom of heaven on earth, the intermediate 
state, the resurrection, the destruction of the world, the new 
heaven and the new earth. The sharp distinction between 
eschatology and messianism drawn by Hermann Cohen 1 cannot 
be maintained; and the last things’ on earth can surely not 
be left out. Other ideas are found in the eschatology of other 
religions. Hugo Gressmann 2 confines eschatology to the complex 
of ideas connected with the end of the world and the renovation 
of the world, excluding in principle all that concerns “death 

1 Die Religion cler Vernunft , 1921. Cp. my observations on this import¬ 
ant posthumous work in The Philosophical Review, Jan. 1922, pp. 68 ff. 

2 Der Ur sprung der israelii isch-jildisclien Eschatologie, 1905. 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OE JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 


103 


and resurrection, in short the final destiny of the individual” 
Such limitations do not seem justified either by etymology or. 
usage. 

But attention had been too exclusively given to the fate 
of the individual. Even on the lower stages of religious devel¬ 
opment speculation upon things to come is not wholly limited 
to man’s condition after death. The shifting fortunes of war 
and the varying success in obtaining supplies give rise to 
anxious or hopeful thoughts of what may befall the tribe. 
Devastating floods, fires, cyclones, earthquakes, or volcanic 
eruptions, and terror-inspiring eclipses of the heavenly bodies 
suggest the possibility of a destruction of the world. But the 
higher forms of eschatological thought presuppose a more 
complex social organization and a closer observation of natural 
phenomena. Hope of deliverance from foreign oppression is 
keenest where it springs from a proud and outraged national 
consciousness, kept alive by the memory of past greatness; 
and dreams of empire are born of the example set by mighty 
conquerors and rulers holding peoples in subjection. It is 
especially myths of astrological origin that furnish material 
for strongly developed eschatologies. Only prolonged observ¬ 
ation of the movements of the planets and the sun’s course 
through the signs of the zodiac can render possible the thought 
of a recurrence at the end of the present period of the events 
connected with the world’s origin, and the renovation of the 
world after its destruction. Eschatology clearly develops with 
the growth of man’s intellectual and moral perceptions, his 
larger social experience, and his expanding knowledge of nature. 
While there is a general similarity, the outward forms vary 
with the character of the environment and the peculiar genius 
of each people. Ideas, like commodities and fashions, pass 
from land to land, but if the native soil can produce them 
a foreign origin must not too hastily be assumed. 

These general considerations should be borne in mind in 
approaching the subject of Jewish eschatology. No one quest¬ 
ions that our extant literature reveals a marked difference 
between earlier and later ideas in respect of man’s condition 
after death, Israel’s destiny, and the future of the world. The 


104 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


great prophets of the Assyrian and Chaldaean periods stand 
forth in striking contrast with their predecessors and their 
successors in the Persian and the Graeco-Roman periods. 
Their tremendous emphasis upon the ethical demands of Yahwe 
and their opposition to chauvinism and entangling foreign 
alliances have set them apart and given them an epoch-making 
significance. It is not strange, therefore, that modern inter¬ 
preters have been inclined to look upon them chiefly as moral 
teachers and to overlook the fact that they also were sooth¬ 
sayers and politicians. Their eyes were always turned toward 
the future, endeavoring to discern what Yahwe was about to 
do in the earth, and watching with anxiety the fulfilment of 
their prognostications of coming events. They took part in 
the raging political party strife of their day, if not with violent 
acts, as some who had gone before them, at least with fierce 
denunciations and strong intimidations. But they were powerful 
personalities, straightforward, fearless, and consistent. This has 
led many investigators of the books ascribed to them to regard 
as interpolations and additions sections that appeared to be 
out of harmony with their distinctive style, their characteristic 
cast of thought, and the historic situation that confronted them, 
and especially to athetize passages containing eschatological 
ideas foreign to the general tone and tenor of their oracles 
and known to have flourished in much later times. These 
passages have to do, not with the future of the individual, for 
on this point even the supposed interpolators, with one single 
exception (Isa. 26 19), still maintained the older view, but with 
the future of Israel and of the world. 

Against this critical treatment a reaction has recently set 
in, led by Gunkel, Eichhorn, Gressmann, Bousset, and to some 
extent Bertholet, Kittel and others. Having discovered in the 
Hebrew Bible numerous unmistakable allusions to myths 
apparently of Babylonian origin, in addition to those already 
recognized as such, Hermann Gunkel 3 began to question the 
current explanation of certain peculiar expressions as merely 
figures of speech and to reject the zeitgeschichtliche Methode , 


3 Schopfung und Chews, 1895. 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OF JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 


105 


as Auberlen 4 had called it, that sees in many of them cryptic 
references to historic personalities. Suggestions in this direction 
were also made in academic lectures by that brilliant teacher, 
Albert Eichhorn. The same tendency was followed by Wilhelm 
Bousset, 5 though somewhat more guardedly and with stronger 
emphasis on possible Persian influence. Besides extending this 
manner of approach to many of the major problems of Old 
Testament exegesis, Hugo Gressmann 6 finally formulated a new 
theory and presented it in a work characterized by great 
learning, much ingenuity, and often rare insight. Briefly out¬ 
lined, the theory is this. Long before the time of Amos many 
myths of foreign origin had found their way into Israel and 
Judah and attached themselves to the thought of Yahwe and 
his dealings with his people, the other nations, and the world. 
Most important among these was the conception of a coming 
destruction of the world by fire, preceded by an accumulation 
of plagues, and followed by a renewal of the world and the 
return of the terrestrial paradise, with its innocence and 
blessedness, ruled over by a semi-divine being, the first man. 
This idea probably originated in Persia, came through Elam 
(possibly as early as 2000 b. c.) to Babylonia, and then traveled 
with the Amorites to Palestine, where it had already been 
saturated with the Jewish spirit in the eighth century b. c. 
The great prophets applied the myth of the cosmic catastrophe 
locally, but because of their moral earnestness suppressed the 
supplementary myth of the cosmic restoration, except that in 
some passages they made concessions to the popular eschat¬ 
ology. The allusions in these passages cannot be understood 
unless one bears in mind the original myth. In the Graeco- 
Roman period this ancient mythical material was again utilized 
by the apocalyptic seers, and fresh accessions from abroad 
made it possible for them to rear a more elaborate structure. 

A few typical illustrations must suffice to show the method of 
interpretation and the somewhat startling results. In Amos 5 18 
the prophet declares: M Ah! ye who wish for the day of Yahwe! 

4 Der Prophet Daniel und die Offenbarung Johannis , 1854. 

5 Die Religion des Judentums, 1903,1906 2 ; Die jiidische ApoJcalgptik, 1903. 

6 l. c. 


106 


JOURNAL OE BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Wherefore would ye have the day of Yahwe? It will he darkness, 
and not light”. Zephaniah says (1 is): “their silver and their 
gold cannot save them on the day of Yahwe’s wrath, when all 
the land will he consumed by the fire of his anger; for he shall 
make a terrible end of all that dwell in the land”. The con¬ 
clusion is drawn that “the day of Yahwe” was a technical term 
popularly understood to mean both the end of the world through 
fire and its restoration, bringing in the golden age, but that 
the people generally expected to escape from the conflagration 
and share in the good time to come, while the prophets were 
unwilling to hold out any such hope. The thought of this day 
of Yahwe is supposed to be of foreign origin. So also the idea 
of a “Remnant”, which did not originate with Isaiah. The 
enemy from the north in Jeremiah and Zephaniah is not a 
definite people expected to come upon Judah from that direction, 
neither the Scythian nor the Chaldaean, hut a mysterious being 
connected with the mountain of the gods in the north. “So 
gut der Nordberg gleich dem Gotterberge ist, so gut ist der 
Nordliche ein gottliches Wesen” (p. 190): and so is also the 
king of the north in Dan. 11 40ff., whom Porphyrius and others 
have identified with Antiochus IY Epiphanes. It is thought 
that an Israelitish origin for this divine being is excluded, 
“since it has for its foundation polytheism”. 

The child called Immanuel in Is. 7 grows up in a land 
where the people live on milk and honey. These are imported 
products. Palestine was not a land literally flowing with milk 
and honey. They are “Gotterspeise” and belong to the land 
of the gods. Immanuel is a mythical figure. The divine mother 
was probably originally Ishtar, not Damkina or Hathor. The 
hero expected by Isaiah (9 i-6) is a human king and a god, 
a kind of “Halbgott”. The mythical epithets point to Egypt 
where they are common in the royal protocols (p. 282). The 
court style used in reference to the reigning prince as well as 
the eschatological king could not have been invented in a small 
kingdom, but must have come from a world-power. In some 
of the Servant of Yahwe Songs, found in the appendix to the 
book of Isaiah, we have remains of a cult-song, referring 
originally to the death and resurrection of a god, probably 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OE JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 


107 


Hadad-Rimmon or Tammuz-Adonis. In some passages these 
reminiscences from a pagan cult are applied to the people of 
Israel. Like the mother of the Messiah, the Messiah himself 
is of foreign origin. The figure of a divine king could only be 
based on the apotheosis of kings, not found in Israel, but 
among its neighbours. “One like a man” (150K 123) in Dan. 7 13 
is not Michael, the guardian angel of the people to whom the 
kingdom is to be given, as I endeavoured to show in a paper 
read before this Society, 7 but the highest angel, a semi-divine 
being, known as “the man”, an abbreviation of “the first man”, 
the king of paradise, originally a foreign god, possibly the 
Persian Gayomart (Bousset), but more likely some divinity 
surviving as an aeon in Gnostic speculation. This non-Jewish 
figure traveled to Palestine for the first time long before the 
days of Amos and Hosea, and a second time shortly before 
the Christian era. 

Criticism in detail is not possible within the limits of this 
paper. A few suggestions, however, may be offered. There is 
no room for doubt that myths of Sumerian, Akkadian, Arrapa- 
chitian, Amoritish, Aramaean, Canaanitish, Hittite, Egyptian, 
Cretan, and Assyrian origin found their way into Palestine 
and may have become known in Israel and Judah. This must 
certainly be the case with the stories concerning the creation 
of the world and primeval times. Nor can it be questioned 
that the rich development of eschatology in the Hasmonaean 
and Roman periods was influenced by Persian and Greek 
speculation. But the assumption of a foreign origin whenever 
a peculiar looking conception presents itself may easily become 
an obsession. Real evidence of advanced eschatological thought 
outside of Israel in the early times contemplated by the theory 
does not yet exist, or is at least extremely rare. Gunkel 8 
rightly observes: “Aus der Beobachtung der Pracession der 
Sonne erklart sich . .. die Gleichung von Urzeit und Endzeit, 
die in der Eschatologie eine solche Rolle spielt”. It is quite 
uncertain, however, how early observers in Babylonia were able 

7 JBL, XIX, 1900, pp. 22 ff. 

3 Genesis , 2 p. 234. 


108 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


to compute, even roughly, the precession of the equinoxes and 
consequently the cosmic year. Eduard Meyer 9 ascribes the 
division of the equator and the ecliptic into 360 degrees, and 
of the latter into the twelve signs of the zodiac, to the Chal- 
daeans in the first millennium b. c. and the more important 
progress in astronomy as well as astrology among them to the 
time of the Chaldaean Kingdom and the Achaemenian and 
Seleucid dynasties. According to Seneca, 10 Berosus maintained 
that “the world will burn when all the planets that now move 
in different courses come together in the Crab, so that they 
all stand in a straight line in the same sign, and the future 
flood will take place when the same conjunction occurs in 
Capricorn”. How much older this conception is than the third 
century b. c. we cannot tell. If the idea of the cosmic catastrophe 
and the restoration of the world came from Persia, we have 
absolutely no datable documents to show when it first appeared 
there. Nor is there any evidence of its presence in Elamitic 
inscriptions or any indication of what could be identified as 
Persian influence in Elam in the remote period suggested. 

The prophetic texts thus far discovered in Egypt do not 
show any idea of the destruction of the world through fire or 
reconstruction after such a catastrophe. They are important, 
however, because they clearly reveal the tendency of putting 
on the lips of ancient seers prophecies of historic events known 
to the real authors and of interpolating earlier texts, and also 
because the descriptions of present misery and future prosperity, 
in spite of the “Lust am Eabulieren” so characteristic of the 
Egyptians, keep within such modest bounds. A priest in the 
time of Snefru is credited with having predicted the coming 
of Ameni, probably Amenemhat I, and his successful reign, 
in a Petrograd papyrus and a wooden tablet at Cairo from 
the eighteenth dynasty. A demotic papyrus from the year 7 

a. d. tells of the prophecies of calamity and Assyrian con¬ 
quests uttered by a lamb in the 6th year of Bocchoris (c. 730 

b. c.). The fragment of a Greek papyrus from the third century 

9 Geschichte des Altertums , I 3 , 1913, pp. 591 ff. 

10 Quaestiones naturales, III, 29. 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OF JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 


109 


A. d. apparently contains a translation of a defense made 
before a king Amenophis by a potter accused of godlessness, 
who turns prophet, predicts disasters for Egypt, and then sud¬ 
denly dies. Unless the whole production is very late, there 
is an interpolation threatening “the city on the sea”—as the 
reference to Agathos Daemon shows, clearly Alexandria— 
with so complete a destruction that fishermen will dry their 
nets where it once stood. It goes on to foretell the coming 
of a king from the east, set up by Isis, in whose reign there 
will be such blessedness that those who survive into that period 
will wish the dead to rise in order to share their joy. The 
time is obviously approaching when the movable year will 
coincide with the fixed year, the end of a Sothis-period in 139 
A. d. One is tempted to think of a Jewish hand retouching an 
older text in the reign of Hadrian, or that of a native Egyptian 
having some familiarity with Jewish ideas and phraseology. 
“The Admonitions of Ipuwer”, in a Leiden papyrus, though 
supposed by Lange, Breasted, and Eduard Meyer to contain 
“messianic” elements, do not seem to refer to the future at 
all, as Gardiner and Gressmann 11 have recognized. It is in¬ 
deed astonishing that so few analogies to Jewish eschatological 
ideas have yet been found. It may be confidently expected 
that more will be discovered in course of time, giving a firmer 
foundation for theories of foreign influence, even where they 
seem today quite plausible. 

There is no logical necessity for supposing that the notion 
of a destruction of the world through fire and a new creation, 
admittedly based on very advanced astronomical knowledge, 
must have preceded the simpler thought of local catastrophes. 
The more clearly it is perceived that Yahwe was regarded 
as manifesting himself in the earthquake, the cyclone, the 
volcanic eruption, the shirokko, the fire from heaven, and the 
pestilence, the more natural it is to assume that such plagues 
were expected as punishments for sin, whether alone or in 
groups, long before they were looked upon as signs of an 
impending cosmic conflagration. Similarly, the blessings of 


n Altorientalische Texte und Bilder , 1909, p. 210. 


110 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Yahwe, abundant harvests, plenty of flocks and herds, security 
against wild beasts, victories in war, rich booty, health, long¬ 
evity and numerous progeny, would be expected as gracious 
rewards long before they were thought of in connection with 
a restoration of the world after a cosmic conflagration and 
a return of the terrestrial paradise. The day of Yahwe looked 
for by the contemporaries of Amos may very well have been 
a day of victory and consequent prosperity, and the day of 
wrath, that fearful day, with which an Amos and a Zephaniah 
threatened the people, need be no more than a day of terrible 
defeat at the hands of foreign foes. If Yahwe afflicts them, 
not only with war, but with all its hellish train, and hurls at 
them the plagues that are his ancient agencies, this does not 
necessarily imply that he destroys the whole universe. There 
is no hint before Isaiah, either in Judah or among the other 
nations, of a mythical Remnant. His expectation that only 
few Judaeans would survive the devastating judgment to turn 
to Yahwe, as those who perished failed to do, does not neces¬ 
sarily suggest an already extant eschatological conception, 
nor a return from exile, nor the salvation of the elect. 

It is perfectly natural that Jeremiah should have interpreted 
his vision of the seething caldron as indicating the coming of 
an enemy from the north, that he should have been ignorant 
of the name of the Scythians approaching from that direction, 
of their alliance with Assyria, and of their purpose to attack 
Egypt rather than the Assyrian vassal-state, Judah, and that 
he should have been convinced that Yahwe was watching over 
the oracle he had given to fulfil it, and therefore applied it 
later to the Chaldaeans. Nowhere, except in the thought of 
Jeremiah and Zephaniah, is there an indication of any such 
northern enemy. The court-style, which has been so illuminat- 
ingly described by G-ressmann, may indeed have been in part 
borrowed. But the modesty of small courts can scarcely be 
urged against Jewish originality. Isaiah may certainly have 
expected that a young woman looking forward to motherhood 
would call a son Immanuel, with the easy confidence which the 
overthrow of Damascus and Samaria would inspire, and that 
an Assyrian invasion would soon work such havoc in Judah 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OF JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 111 

that a limited amount of milk and honey would suffice tor 
the few survivors in a land reduced to a desert. Of a mother- 
goddess there is not the slightest suggestion; and though 
Palestine may not literally be flowing with milk and honey, 
this diet would not have to be imported from the land of the 
gods. A shoot springing up from the root of Jesse obviously 
presupposes the fall of the Davidic dynasty and the birth of 
a scion of the old royal family on which the legitimatist hope 
centered. Whether a “Gotterkind” or not, it is not necessary 
to think that the dominion would rest on his shoulders before 
he had grown up. That the singer of the Servant of Yahwe, 
even in some passages, drew upon a cult-song, celebrating the 
death and resurrection of a foreign deity, seems an unneces¬ 
sary hypothesis, however ingenious it may be. Semites love to 
represent nations as individuals; and the death and quickening 
to new life of a nation is a figure of speech that does not 
necessarily imply complete extinction and an absolutely new 
creation. If the resurrection had not been barred out from 
the eschatological scheme, one would not have been startled 
to find the hones in Ezekiel’s valley interpreted as the disjecta 
membra of a god, possibly Osiris. 

Seeing that the everlasting kingdom is to he given to the 
people of the saints of the Most High, or the exalted saints 
t^p), the angelic nation, (and Gressmann himself admits 
that the one like a man in Dan. 7 13 , as everywhere else in 
the book, is an angel), there appears to be no good reason 
why we should not regard Michael, the guardian angel of his 
people, as the highest of the angels. That he fights with the 
guardian angels and former gods of the world-powers does 
not militate against but rather strengthens this conclusion. 
He may indeed have been a god originally, as Gressmann 
thinks, and I suggested long ago. He was in course of time 
merged with the Messiah. No evidence has been brought 
forward to prove Gressmann’s assertion that the Messiah was 
once a foreign god (p. 282). The hope of an Anointed One, 
either a righteous and victorious king who shall be a genuine 
descendant of David, as in the Psalms of Solomon, or a high- 
priestly ruler “of Aaron and Israel”, as in the Zadokite 


112 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


documents, is altogether explicable as a native growth. Neither 
in Daniel, nor in the Parables of Enoch, nor in Baruch, nor 
in IV Ezra can the original NfcSO ID “the man” have been a 
title of either the angel or the Messiah. No arguments urged 
from any side—and they have all been carefully considered— 
have changed my conviction as to the essential soundness of the 
position laid down for the first time in a paper presented to 
this Society twenty-seven years ago 12 both as to the employment 
of the term DD in the original Aramaic texts of these 
apocalypses and as to its use by Jesus. Especially G-rotius, 
Lagarde, Arnold Meyer and Eerdmans had paved the way. 
The same conclusions were reached independently, though 
published later, by Lietzmann; and they subsequently met with 
the approval of Wellhausen. In various publications 13 I have 
continued the discussion, dealing with such objections as have 
been made. It has more recently been suggested that Jesus 
may have used the term DDK )D; this seems to be precluded 
by the definite article before the genitive in the Greek which 
evidently seeks to render very literally the Aramaic phrase, 
just as the Aramaic versions by their KtWiH HID, NIDn mD, 
and KUO DDD mD seek to render word for word the Greek. 
Dalman 14 recognizes that K&tt ID was used by Jesus, and that 
it was not a messianic title. He thinks that tSOK rather than 
ISON ID, was used in Galilean Aramaic in the first century 
a. d. It is not impossible that one was used more frequently 
than the other, though in the absence of texts from that century 
it cannot be proved. His strange conjecture that, when it 
actually was employed at that time, as by Jesus, it was not 
understood, and not intended to be understood, in the sense 
it always has wherever it occurs in any of the Aramaic dialects 
certainly lacks all plausibility. In regard to the later apoca¬ 
lypses there is still too much confidence in the integrity and 
accuracy of late versions, themselves sometimes made from 
translations. This is not to be wondered at, when even in 
the interpretation of the prophetic books the simple duty is 

12 Published in JJBL, XV, 1896, pp. 36 ff. 

13 Encyclopaedia Biblica , 1903; The Prophet of Nazareth, 1906, etc. 

14 Die Worte Jesu, 1898. 


SCHMIDT: THE ORIGIN OE JEWISH ESCHATOLOGY 


113 


neglected of comparing long-suspected passages with those 
that are all but universally recognized as genuine. It is too 
late to question that much mythical material of foreign origin 
was taken into the thought of Israel and adopted by its own 
religious genius, and there is no disposition to undervalue the 
real services rendered by scholars like Gunkel and Gressmann 
in detecting such alien elements. But some considerations are 
often overlooked. Before the prophets, and in spite of them, 
polytheism flourished in Israel; and there were native myths 
as well as foreign. Myths are what men say about the gods. 
What are the stories told about Yahwe himself but myths? 
Concerning the so-called “schools of the prophets” we know 
next to nothing. If the stories of Elijah and Elisha come 
from these “sons of the prophets”, they reveal little that can 
be traced to a foreign origin, but have many mythical as well 
as legendary features. On the other hand, there is a tendency 
to underestimate the creative power and originality of the great 
prophets and of those who struggled with the problems of 
thought under the mighty ethical impulse they had given. In 
respect of man’s condition after death the adoption of the 
Persian doctrine of a resurrection seems to have been prepared, 
not only by the belief that Yahwe had taken certain heroes 
directly up to heaven and brought others back from Sheol by 
empowering his prophets to raise them from the dead, but 
also by peculiar moral considerations. While Job himself 
resolutely brushes aside “the hope of man”, he touches with 
infinite pathos upon the longing of the creator for the work 
of his hands that might lead him to call this creature back 
from Sheol into life. In the struggle for monotheism the simple 
explanation, in the appendix to Isaiah, that the other gods 
were simply stocks and stones did not satisfy. They were 
thought of as living beings reduced from their divine rank to 
be angels, among whom Yahwe must reign and rebellion be 
quelled. Thus justice was extended to the invisible world, and 
the way was paved for heaven and hell. In annotations to 
the prophecies against foreign nations, the idea of a return 
from exile was applied to some of them, and places of honor 
were given even to enemy nations by the side of Israel. Wlien 

' 8 


114 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


the notion of a cosmic conflagration and a following restoration, 
an rPTitt corresponding to the IWK1, appears in tangible form, 
the dominant note is the hope of a new heaven and a new 
earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. This ethical motivation 
is of the greatest importance. 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


115 


SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE ATTITUDE OF 
THE SYNAGOGUE TOWARDS THE 
APOCALYPTIC-ESCHATOLOGICAL WRITINGS 

LOUIS GINZBERG 

JEWISH THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY OF AMERICA 

T HE attractiveness of the novel is responsible not only for 
the lively interest in the Apocalyptic-eschatological literature 
noticeable among all students of the origins of Christianity, but 
also for the exaggerated claims advanced by some scholars for 
these literary productions of a handful of Jewish visionaries. 
Many an apocalypse has been discovered or made accessible 
only in recent times and scholars are human enough to be dazzled 
by sudden light. A picture drawn by artificial light will never 
be true to nature, great as the skill of the artist may be, 
and hence the failure of some really great scholars to give us a 
true picture of the religious life of Israel at the time of the 
rise of Christianity. A history of Judaism based on the Pseud- 
epigrapha and particularly the visions of the apocalypses could 
but be a visionary pseudo-history. It would, however, be 
impossible within the compass of anything less than a substantial 
volume to present an adequate criticism of the view which sees 
in the so-called popular literature of the Jews the true mirror 
of the religion of the Jewish people. In the following few remarks 
I intend to give some facts about the attitude of the Synagogue 
towards the apocalyptic writings which I hope may throw some 
light on the very intricate problems connected with the eschat¬ 
ological doctrines and beliefs of the Jews at the time of the 
Apostles and Apostolic Fathers. 


8 * 


116 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


It is a well-known fact tliat none of the apocalyptic books 
with the exception of Daniel was received by the Synagogue. 1 
The preservation of this literature is exclusively due to the 
efforts of the early Church. With equal certainty one may state 
that there is not one quotation from the now extant apocalyptic 
writings in the vast Rabbinic literature extending over the first 
six centuries of the common era. One might cite numerous 
parallels to the statements, legends or phrases of the apocalyptic 
authors from the Rabbinic writings, but these parallels are never 
of a nature that would indicate a literary dependence of the 
one kind of literature upon the other. This is best proved by 
the fact that the Rabbis never mention by name any apocalyptic 
writing. It is true Dr. Kohler (J. Q. R. V., pp. 400—401) finds in 
an ancient Tannaitic tradition a direct reference to the Testa¬ 
ments of the Twelve Patriarchs. Not having however the vision 
of an apocalyptic writer I fail to detect in the passages indicated 
by Dr. Kohler the slightest reference to the Testaments. The 
assertion of Dr. Kohler is based on an arbitrarily construed 
text and on the impossible translation thereof. He quotes from 
the Talmud the text dealing with the nature of the admonition 
addressed by the court to the woman suspected of adultery; 
the text as given by Dr. Kohler reads: 

QWtnn D'mnm yyrm mw* rrm nm 
it}' D'Dsn tok “loro min' nnfca pun wyo po 

min'i pun 

The translation of this text by Dr. Kohler is: Words of the 
Haggadah, historical facts which occur in the early writings as 
the story of Reuben regarding Bilhah and of Judah regarding 
Tamar, as it says in Job XY. 18 “The wise ones confess and 
conceal it not; these are Reuben and Judah.” The early writings, 
according to Dr. Kohler, are the Testaments where the con¬ 
fessions of Reuben and Judah are found. We thus learn from 
this tradition of the Tannaim the very interesting fact that one 
of the apocalypses at least, for some time, enjoyed almost can¬ 
onical dignity among the Rabbis. Before giving the true text 

1 The apocalyptic literature of the Gaonic period is neither in form 
nor in matter a direct development of the pre-Talmudic Apocalypse, 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


117 


as found in the Rabbinic sources I want to call attention to the 
very strange translation 2 by Dr. Kohler of the imaginary one. 
Misled by the English expression “occur in a book” be renders 

by “which occur in the writings”. But '2 JT1N 
has never any other meaning than “it happened to”—generally 
something evil or unpleasant 3 —and accordingly our text would 
speak of something that happened to the ancient writings! 

Dr. Kohler, though giving three sources for the text quoted 
did not state that in none of them “his” text is found. 4 5 Sifre, 
Numbers 12 has not the sentence from to lana; after 

pn follows the quotation from Job; 6 in Bahli, Sotah 7b where 
this sentence is found it follows after the quotation from Job, 
while in Yerushalmi, Sotah I, 16b the text begins with ]\X2 as 
a comment upon the words of the Mishna I, 4 and hence may 
entirely be ignored in the discussion of the meaning of D'DIfD 
WlH found in the two other sources. The text as given in 
Sifre and Babli admits two explanations. HTin 

may he taken as ev Sia Svolv , the Haggadah concerning the events 
that happened and COIfiD stands for Job which, ac¬ 

cording to the Rabbis, is the third 6 in the order of the eleven 
Hagiographa. The passage is consequently to be rendered: “The 


2 Dr. Charles, who, in the introduction to his translations of the 
Testaments, quotes Dr. Kohler’s view with approval very likely did not 
take the trouble to look up the passages quoted by him. 

3 The “happenings” consequently refer to the sins and not the con¬ 
fessions; why then quote the Testaments and not Genesis? 

4 The text given by Dr. Kohler is that emended by Guedemann, 
Zunz — Jubelschrift, 116, in accordance with his view that Haggadah 
means “story”. Bacher, Tannaiten , II. 451, has disposed of the “story” 
and also of the emendation. 

5 In Sifre without ), which is probably due to some “learned” 

copyist who omitted this letter on account of his inability to explain the 
construction of the sentence. The reading with 1 as given in the editions 
of Babli is found also in Rashi, ad loc ., Yalkut, I, 707, on Num. 515 
(in the first edition: nmniDl comp, note 10), Ibn Masnut in his commentary 
on Job 15 18 and in the Munich Ms. of the Talmud. 

s According to the Massorah the three first Hagiographa are “Psalms, 
Proverbs and Job”, while the Tannaitic tradition in Baba Batra, 14b, gives 
the order as, “Ruth, Psalms and Job”. Comp, also Berakot, 57 b, beginning, 
“The three big Hagiographa—Psalms, Proverbs and Job”. 


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JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Haggadah found in the first Hagiographa concerning the events 
that happened, for example: which wise men have told etc.” The 
verse of Job is quite correctly described as a Haggadah on the 
narratives of Genesis about the sins of Reuben and Judah. The 
other explanation presupposes that the text of the Talmud though 
fuller than that of the Sifre is not quite complete, the words 
JJUt? ran TVT being omitted out of respect for the pious 

king. If this assumption be correct stand for 

the Pentateuch, 7 where the sins of Reuben and Judah are told 
and the Book of Samuel, where the story of David’s sin is given. 
The woman is thus admonished to confession by the court who 
put before her in an elaborate way, or, as the Rabbis say, in 
Haggadic style, the events narrated in the earlier parts of 
Scripture, i. e. Genesis and Samuel. 8 The second explanation 
has much in its favour, especially as it does away with a very 
great difficulty. The incident of David with Bath-Sheba and 
the confession of his sin by the pious king is certainly the most 
natural thing that we would expect the court to dwell upon in 
addressing the woman suspected of adultery. The omission of 
the reference to David in our texts can easily be explained, as 
according to the regulations laid down in Mishnah, Megillali, 
end, the “story of David” is not to be read in the Synagogue 
and still less to be translated by the Meturgeman, while the 
“story of Reuben” may be read, though not translated, the 
“story of Judah” only is permitted to be read and translated. 9 

Attention should also be called to the fact that the text 
of Yerushalmi as given in Midrash Haggadol, Num. 5, 19 (in 

7 Rashi, ad loc., understands '“in to refer to the Pentateuch 

which however is very unlikely, as we certainly would expect miro, the 
usual term for this part of the Bible. Of course Rashi does not commit 
the error of making D'airDn dependent on ttnjw but takes it to stand 
for D’OirDatP which is quite possible. 

8 The order of the Prophets is, “Joshua, Judges, Samuel” (Baba 
Batra 14b) and it is quite natural to describe the first and fourth books 
of the Bible as the first writings. 

9 This is in accordance with the readings of the editions. See, how¬ 
ever, Variae Lectiones, Megillah, 25 a, note 60. It is very likely that, 
according to the Mishnah, the paraphrase by the Meturgeman only was 
prohibited, while later this prohibition was extended to the reading too. 


ginzberg: attitude oe the synagogue 


119 


manuscript) has TTOnifc JWBK TWftSi after IDHl HTliT. This 
reading 10 can hardly be justified, as Amnon does not belong 
to the repentant sinners and it can be explained only by the 
assumption that the original reading was: 1DTD ... pliO 

TH ntyj^DI as in Mishnah Megillah, end. When the 
reference to David was omitted the one concerning Amnon was 
substituted to make our Baraita agree as far as possible with 
the phraseology of the Mishnah. It may be mentioned in passing 
that the confessions of Reuben and Judah are a very favorite 
subject with the Tannaim and Amoraim, comp. e. g. Pesikta 
Buber XXV, 159a—159b, Sifre Deut. 348, Midrash Tannaim 214. 

On D'QVD as name for Pentateuch and Prophets comp. Blau, 
Zar Einleitung, p. 28 sq. His explanation of the later use of the 
term = Hagiographa as an abbreviation of D’QlfD is 

supported by the very same development of the use of v 13D“Sifre” 
from 3*) ; comp. RSBM on Baba Batra 124b. 11 

The only quotation from an apocalypse in the Talmud 12 is 
found Sanhedrin 97b and reads: “Four thousand two hundred 
and ninety years after “creation” the world will become or¬ 
phaned; 13 the wars of the dragons (DT^ri, a mythological- 
eschatological word!) will then take place as well as the wars of 
Gog and Magog and after these events the days of the Messiah, 
but the renewal 14 of the world by God will take place after 

10 Comp. Scliechter in the introduction to his Sectaries, I, 27, note 65. 
The emendation MWinn miN 1 ? suggested by him is not acceptable. It is 
true iTDN is sometimes applied to prominent men of biblical times (comp. 
Ginzberg, u Eine Unbekannte Jiiclische Sekte ”, 295, note 2), but Amnon is 
certainly more of an infamous person than a famous one. In Yalkut ed. 
princeps rVQiron (comp, note 5) is a corruption of D'nillM, not of nm 1 ?. 

11 The objections raised by Hoffmann, Zur Einleitung, 40, note 1, 
against this explanation of R. S. B. M. are not very strong, but it would 
lead me too far to discuss them here. 

12 Prof. Israel Levi, R. E. J. I, 108 seq. has collected a number of 
apocalyptic passages—but not all of them—found in the Talmud. His 
view, however, that they prove the composition of apocalyptic writings 
by the Amoraim is far from convincing. 

13 I. e. there will be no pious and good men left; comp. Mekilta, 
Bo 16, 18b, and parallel passages given by Friedmann. 

14 tnn admits two meanings, “to renew” and “to create anew”, comp. 
Ps. 51 12 where t£Hn is = N"D. 


* 


120 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


seven thousand years”. This passage is quoted in the Talmud 
from a Scroll “written in Assyrian script (= square) and in 
Hebrew language” which a Jewish soldier is said to have found 
about 300 c. e. in the archives of Rome. 

The description of this apocalyptic Scroll as having been 
“written in Assyrian script and in Hebrew language” is very 
interesting. What is meant by this characterization of the 
apocalyptic writing is that it had the make-up of a Biblical 
book. Scripture defiles the hands only when written in Hebrew 
language and in Assyrian script (Yadaim IY, 5), and similarly 
the scroll of Esther used for public reading on the feast of 
Purim had to be written in the same way, comp. Megillali I, 8; 
II, 1. The claim made accordingly for the apocalyptic scroll 
was that it was, if not of a canonical, at least of semi-canonical 
character, written for the purpose of public reading and study. 
The question whether this claim was justified does not need to 
detain us since we know nothing about its merits. It is, however, 
very significant that as late as the fourth century such a claim 
could be raised for a non-canonical book. 

This leads us to the very crucial question: did the Synagogue 
at some time or another, at the joint conference of the schools 
of Shammai and Hillel about 66 c. e., or later in Jabne about 
120, 16 take steps to prohibit the reading of the Pseudepigrapha 
and particularly the Apocalypses. This is not the place to discuss 
the difficult problems connected with the history of the Canon, 
but it is evident that we shall never understand the attitude of 
the Synagogue towards these “outside writings” as long as we 
do not know w r hat the Tannaim have to say on this subject. The 
very learned and stimulating essay by Professor George F. Moore 
“The Definition of the Jewish Canon and the Repudiation of 
Christian Scriptures” 16 represents the last word of Biblical 
scholarship on the final delineation of the Canon. I regret how¬ 
ever that I cannot accept the conclusion which this distinguished 
scholar has reached. 

The result of the thorough examination by Prof. Moore of 

15 Comp. Graetz, Kohelet 166 seq. 

16 Published in 11 Essays in Modern Theology and Related Subjects ”, 

N.Y., 1911. 


ginzburg: attitude of the synagogue 


121 


the Tannaitic sources bearing upon this question ma) r be briefly 
summed up as follows: The D^liPnn D'HSD the reading of which 
is strongly condemned 17 by Eabbi Akiba, Sanhedrin X, 1 refer 
to the heretical, in particular to the early Christian writings. 
The Dm*! spoken of by Eabban Johanan ben Zakkai, 

Yaddaim IY, 6 in connection with the defilement of the hands 
and the reading of which books is permitted in Yerushalmi, 
Sanhedrin X, 28a owe their existence to a scribal error; DYDH 
is nothing but a corruption of Consequently the text of 

Yerushalmi is to be emended to read as follows: onsD3 snipn 
"mi NTD p 0)“1BD DTOH '*I5D1 rttyb )3 '1BD DUWin 
The translation of this passage as given by Prof. Moore reads: 
“He who reads in the arch-heretical books, such as the books of 
Ben-Laana (Gospels) 18 and the books of the heretics (Christians). 

17 The words of R. Akiba are “Also he who reads in the outside 
books has no share in the world to come”. It may not be out of place to 
remark that the rabbis were often in the habit of using emphatic language. 
That the losing of the share in the world to come is not always to be taken 
literally can easily be seen from the remark, Abot R. Nathan, XXXVI, 
108, about the seven professions—very honorable ones—whose members 
are declared to forfeit their share in the world to come; comp, also, 
ibid. XXVII. 

18 The reading Laana is very doubtful. The only MS. of this part of 
the Yerushalmi has xwb (comp. Ginzberg, Yerushalmi Fragments , 262) 
and this is very likely the correct reading, as Kohelet R. XII, 12, in a 
passage undoubtedly dependent on Yerushalmi has and this is much 
nearer to than to of the editions. The identification of Laana 
with Jesus by Prof. Moore is neither better nor worse than the half 
dozen other identifications of this name recorded by me in Jeivish Ency¬ 
clopedia , s. v. Ben Laana. When, however, Prof. Moore, in support of 
his identification, points to another nickname for Jesus found in the 
Mishnah I must say with the Rabbis of old: “An error once entered 
remains.” A Babylonian Amora in the second half of the third century, 
who very likely never in his life saw a Christian nor knew anything about 
Christianity had the ingenuity to find in fcntSD p —a sorcerer mentioned 
in the Tannaitic source, Tosefta Shabbat, XI, 15—a nickname for Jesus. 
The identification is not only without any sound basis, but hardly possible, 
as has been conclusively shown by Derenbourg, Essai , 460 seq. and 
especially Chajes in the Hebrew periodical, Ha—Goren, IV, 33—37. The 
hunt for nicknames, however, continues merrily and soberminded scholars 
speak seriously of Balaam, Doeg, Ahitophel, and Gehazi as being the 
nicknames which the Mishnah Sanhedrin, X, 1, uses for Jesus and three 



122 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


But as for tlie books of Ben-Sira and all books that have been 
written since his time, he who reads in them is as one who reads 
in a letter”. The inference which Prof. Moore draws from these 
premises is that the attempt authoritatively to define the Canon 
of the Hagiographa was dictated by the danger that threatened 
the Synagogue from the circulation among Jews of the Gospels 
and other Christian books. 

Personally I am firmly convinced that there never was a time 
when the Synagogue had to carry on a fight against the can- 
onicity of the Gospels/ 9 but, as this is rather a matter which 

of his disciples. If these scholars were consistent they ought to try to 
identify the three kings—Jeroboam, Ahab, and Manasseh—with three 
Christian emperors, since the four “private persons” mentioned and the 
“three kings” are said in the Mishnah to form one class of grave sinners. 
What a pity that there were no Christian emperors at the time of the 
Mishnah! Numerous legends concerning these seven sinners are given in 
both Talmuds in connection with the statement of the Mishnah concerning 
them, and these legends can by no stretch of imagination be made to 
apply to other persons than to those who bear these names in the Bible. 
They show not only how the Amoraim understood this statement of the 
Mishnah, but also how much the lives of these Biblical persons occupied 
the fancy of the Jewish people. One may therefore state with absolute 
certainty that the entire Talmudic-Midrashic literature does not know of 
any nicknames for Jesus or his disciples. I may add that = eia.y^\iov 
must not be taken as a mutilation or perversion, but is a very common 
form of apheresis, comp, the remark on page 128 about DWD = Homer. 
By the way, if Ben Laana is a nickname for Jesus why not take it as 
an equivalent for D'Htt p, the son of Miriam? According to the Rabbis, 
the name Miriam denotes “bitterness” (Seder Olam R., Ill, and the 
parallel passages given by Ratner), and “wormwood” is used in 

Hebrew to describe something very bitter. Of course I do not consider 
this etymology seriously. Jesus is never named in old sources otherwise 
than SNtfirP, W, Pit?' or Jesus the son of Pantera. Origen. C. Cels. I, 70, 
shows that Pantera (= K"TTi2£ i. e. rav^p) is a real name and not a 
nickname. 

19 The passage Tosefta Yadaim, III, 4, “The Gospels and the other 
heretical books do not defile the hands” has been frequently misunder¬ 
stood. The defiling of the hands by a book being equal to our way of 
saying that such a book is canonical, this statement of the Tosefta was 
taken to mean that it needed a special ruling to declare these books as 
non-canonical. The truth of the matter, however, is, that the Halakah 
had to consider the possibility of the defilement by these books not on 


ginzbekg: attitude oe the synagogue 


123 


can neither be proved nor disproved, I shall limit myself to an 
examination of the premises which led Prof. Moore to his con¬ 
clusions. I fully agree with the view which finds in the Mishna 
Sanhedrin a statement by P. Akiba directed against Christians. 
The severe condemnation by Pabbi Akiba of the use of Exodus 
15 26 in connection with medication is certainly directed against 
certain Christian healers, 20 as has been felt by many scholars, 
though they were unable to explain why just this Biblical verse 
was so opprobrious to the Pabbis. The answer to this question 
is very simple. The last three words of this verse iTliT 
have the same numerical value (three hundred eighty eight plus 
three for the three words = three hundred ninety one) as the name 
of Jesus = three hundred ninety one). It is not unlikely 

that some crypto-Christians who were afraid to openly perform 


account of their own merits but because of the numerous quotations from 
Scriptures they contain. This paragraph of the Tosefta is, as one easily 
sees, not a comment upon Mishnah Yad. IV, 6, where the defilement by 
Scripture is discussed between Rabban Johanan ben Zakkai and the 
Sadducees, but on Yad. Ill, 5, where the law is laid down that even a 
very small fragment of a canonical book defiles the hands. In view of 
this ruling the question had to be discussed what to do with those heretical 
writings containing copious quotations from Scriptures. The final decision 
was that even the most extensive quotations from Scripture lose their 
holy quality if embedded in an heretical writing or in a prayer book; 
prayers should not be written down, but recited by heart. The far fetched 
interpretation of in Tosefta as “margins” given in Shabbat 116a 

shows rather the acquaintance of the Babylonian Amoraim with the Gospels 
than their ignorance of the true meaning of = eva.'yytXiov. They 

knew that there is no continuous quotation containing 85 letters from 
the Hebrew Bible in the Gospels, which number is the minimum of a 
fragment that might defile the hands. Accordingly the Amoraim found 
the statement concerning the Gospels, given in Tosefta entirely 

superfluous, and solved the difficulty by explaining as margins. 

The Tosefta however either mentioned on account of the other 

heretical books with which the Gospels are ordinarily coupled together 
(and there very likely were heretical books that contained quotations from 
the Bible of more than 85 letters), or the Tosefta dates from a time when 
the minimum was less than 85 letters. 

20 The magical averruncation mentioned in Tosefta Sanhedrin, XII, 10, 
and Abot R. Nathan, XXVI in connection with this mode of healing is 
said in Mark 7 33, 8 23, John 9 6, to have been employed by Jesus. 


124 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


cures “in the name of Jesus” would use this verse in which they 
found his name indicated. Professor Moore, however, does in¬ 
justice to the Rabbis when he maintains that they had no scruples 
about using verses of the Bible in connection with medication. 
The prohibition against “healing by the words of the Torah” is 
given in the Babylonian as well as in the Palestinian Talmud 
(comp. Shebuot 15b, Yerushalmi Shabbat VI, 8b), and the 
numerous magical formulas in the Talmudim, with one ex¬ 
ception (Shabbat 67 a, top), contain no Biblical verses. The 
very strong condemnation of the use of Exodus 15 26 cannot, 
however, be explained otherwise than on account of the 
favour this verse enjoyed among the Christian healers. But the 
coupling by R. Akiba of the prohibition against the outside 
books with that against the use of Exodus 15 26 as a charm 
does not indicate that both prohibitions are directed against 
Christians. Tosefta Sanhedrin XII, 10 and Aboth R. Nathan 
XXXVI, end, add another statement concerning the Canon by 
R. Akiba which by no stretch of imagination can be made to 
refer to some Christian heresy or practice. In these sources 
the man who sings the Song of Songs at festival gatherings— 
i. e. who treats this Biblical book as if it were of a secular 
character—is classed among those who have no share in the world 
to come. We know from many other places that Rabbi Akiba 
was the valiant champion of the canonicity of this Biblical book, 
but the opposition he had to combat he met among his own 
colleagues and friends. 21 

The meaning of in the statement of Rabbi Akiba is 

the crucial point in the entire discussion. I shall therefore try 
to, establish its true meaning. The word occurs nowhere else; 
Mishna Megillah IV, 8 *]T7 is in the correct reading 22 while 

QWnn of the editions is undoubtedly due to in 

R. Akiba’s famous statement. The meaning of p2fW7 *]Tf is 

21 Comp. Yadaim, III, 5. 

22 This is the reading of Ms. Munich, Aruk s. v. ^priK, Me’fri, and 
R. Nissim Gerondi (, Jerusalem , 1884) ad loc. Aruk s. v. pn, agree with the 
editions, but this is certainly a copyist’s error, since the explanation of 
the phrase given in this passage does not admit any other reading than 
that given in the first passage. 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


125 


easily established if one considers it in connection with the ex¬ 
pressions mitso and |*Hn rnit^D A correct action is 

iTWD, literally “according to the line”—of the law, ti'ZEh 
pn mw& “within the line” describes a pious action which 
the strict law does not directly command and accordingly pi 
jtrnn is “outside the line”—the exact regulation of the law. 23 
To say with Prof. Moore that the term D\J12Pn is synonymous 
with DTD, but evidently carries a stronger reprobation, would 
be far from the mark, even if the reading were the cor¬ 

rect one. The covering of the phylacteries with gold 24 or putting 
them on the sleeve instead of on the bare arm is characterized as 
DT^nn tvt. Now, while these practices are not quite correct 
they are not at all a serious break of the Law, as pointed out 
by R. Nissim Gerondi in his commentary on Al-Fasi ad loc. 
and consequently, though censured as incorrect, are never said to 
be heretical. On the other hand, the putting of the phylacteries 
not on the part of the body prescribed for this practice is 
declared to be an outright heresy. If therefore the reading 
DTimn in Megillah were correct it would furnish the strongest 
proof against taking DT^YIH in Sanhedrin in the sense of 
heretics. Prof. Moore quotes Talmud Megillah 24b to the effect 
that the persons described as in the Mishna are such 

as are suspected to be inoculated with heresy. The Talmud, 
however, offers no comment whatever on this part of the Mishnah. 
The words quoted from the Talmud by Prof. Moore refer to 
something entirely different. The Mishna ibid, reads: “He who 
says ‘I refuse to step before the Tebah (perform the public 
service in the Synagogue) in coloured garments’ is not permitted 
to do it in white gowns”. The comment of the Talmud on this 
Mishnah is: Because we suspect that he is inoculated with heresy. 
Clemens Alexandrinus, Instructor II, 11, 12, as well as III, 11 
likewise mentions the custom of the early Christians to dress in 
white, and consequently the heresy spoken of by the Talmud in 

23 Comp. Aruk, s. v. whose words are: "DP tib. 

24 This custom reminds one of the use of chrysography for the divine 
names in the Holy Scrolls by the Alexandrian Jews, which was like¬ 
wise censured by the Rabbis. Comp. Sliabbat, 103 b, Masseket Soferim, 
I, 10. 


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JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


this connection refers to Christianity. 25 Professor Moore quotes 
further the reading JTl^D from the Munich manuscript 

which he renders by “heresy and extraneous speculation”. No 
such reading is found there, nor does H^in “speculation” occur any¬ 
where else in the Rabbinic literature. The copyist of the MS. 
made a mistake and wrote XWD which word he had before him 
in the first clause of the Mishnah, hut noticing his error he cor¬ 
rected it to nilSTri. Rabbinovicz, the author of Variae Lectiones, 
thus remarks: written flU'D but “corrected” to ?U12Pn. 

T 

The photograph of this manuscript is before me and I find that 
this statement of Rabbinovicz is correct. 

We may then state with certainty that there is no such 
word as “heretics” in the entire Talmudic-Midrashic 

literature, and that judging by the use of the singular the 
plural D'tffcm could not have been used in the sense supposed 
by Prof. Moore. But even granted the equation the 

expression DMl^nn “heretical books” is hardly possible 

in Talmudic Hebrew. We have “heretical books”, 

D'DDIp nSD “magical books”, 26 and consequently we would 
expect DMllfrTl the “books of the heretics” and not 
mtsrnn as we have it in R. Akiba’s Mishnah. It is true, the 
Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 100 b explains 
by “heretical hooks”, but the Palestinian Talmud, 

Sanhedrin X, 28 a, which is by far a safer guide in historical or 
linguistic matters than the Babli, quite explicitly states that 
Ben Sira is included among the D'HSD and thus clearly 

takes mwm 'D to mean hooks “outside of the Canon”, though 
not of a heretical character. The attempt made by many scholars 
to reconstruct the text of Yerushalmi so as to agree with Babli 
is decidedly a vain effort. Before entering, however, upon the 
discussion of this point it is necessary to know what DYDH 'D 
stand for in this passage of the Yerushalmi, as a good deal 
depends upon the correct understanding of this term. 

Professor Moore gets rid of this inconvenient term by emend¬ 
ing it to D^D 'D, but while there may he some doubt as to the 


2 5 Comp, also Goldfahn, Monatsschrift 1870, 174. 

26 Yerushalmi Maaserot, I, 51 a. 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


127 


exact meaning of this obscure word, 27 no doubt is possible as 
to its genuineness. Midrash Tehillim, I, 9 in commenting upon 
Ps. 19 15 remarks: David prayed to God that men may not 
read his words as they read the books of D1TD, but that they 
may read them and meditate 28 over them so that they receive 
reward for doing it as if they would study the most difficult 
parts of the Tora in' DTVD '1SD2 plp3 Qi*D pip W ^K1 

/i2i 29 mbnxi trjmD p'ty pteui am pirn am pip 

It is evident that DVTD is the same as D1YDH in Yaddaim IV, 6 
and in our passage of the Yerushalmi and that by it the Midrash 
understands books of a secular nature which one may read 
without doing damage to one’s salvation though the reading is 
without spiritual benefit; one “reads them, but does not meditate 
or ponder over them”. To make David pray that the Psalms 
may not be read by men “like heretical books” would be the 
height of absurdity. A careful reading of the Mishna Yaddaim 
leads to the same conclusion as to the meaning of DYDH 'D. 
The books which according to Babban Johanan ben Zakkai do 
not defile the hands “because they are not precious” can only 
be secular books but not heretical ones. The description of 
heretical books by the leader of the Pharisees as “not precious” 
would be as inept as such a characterization of the Thesis of 
Luther by the head of the Index Expargatorius. 

The earliest commentary on the Mishnah composed in the 
ninth or tenth century by one of the Babylonian Gaonim— 
perhaps Saadia 30 —takes DYDH to be “Homer” and this is very 
likely the correct interpretation of this word. Of course, we 

27 There are numerous etymologies of this word; comp. Graetz, Monats- 
schrift, 1870, 139 seq., Perles It. E. J. Ill, 114, Weil, ibid . 278, Kohut, 
J. Q. It. Ill, 546, Kohler, ibid. V, 415, Jastrow, Dictionary, 355 b. Not 
one of these etymologies deserves serious consideration; on the traditional 
explanation of DYUH == Homer see text. 

28 This passage shows conclusively that run is not “read” but “study” 
or “meditate”, comp, note 40. 

29 These laws form a very difficult section of the Mishnah and hence 
are often used to describe the most important parts of the Halakah; 
comp, for instance Haglgah, 14 a. 

30 Comp. Ginzberg, Geonica , 172 seq. and Epstein, Der Gaonaische 
Kornmentar, 29 seq. 


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JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


must not think of a translation of Homer into Hebrew—the dis¬ 
cussion about the “defiling of the hands” could only refer to 
Hebrew books—but the books of Homer 31 stand for “light 
literature”, books one may read but which are “not precious”. 
The apheresis of Greek loan words is quite common in Jewish 
writings and the forms DIET’D and pTD (accusative!) offer no 
difficulty. 32 That some of the copyists who undoubtedly never 
had heard of Homer wrote QYDH is not in the least surprising, 
if one considers that Xyarris “thief” is regularly mispelled as 
D*tDD*6, though its meaning must have been known as it occurs 
hundreds of times in the Talmudic-Midrashic literature. 

We shall now proceed to examine the text of the Yerushalmi. 
We have seen that DTDH must not be amended and that by it 
secular literature is meant, the reading of which is permitted 
in contrast to that of the Book of Ben Sira which is said to 
belong to the prohibited books. The question is of course very 
puzzling how to harmonize this interdict by Babbi Akiba 33 with 
the fact that, of all the Apocrypha, Ben Sira is the only one 
quoted by the rabbis. A great Talmudist at the end of the 
sixteenth century 34 suggested the following emendation of the 
Yerushalmi: (r.: *ISD) 'ISD p ''ISDI DYQn 'ISD 

.n*m» snips jns smpn ■jSti pvs urojt? onsD bsi kyd p 

Among modern scholars it was Graetz (Kolielet 166) who 

31 In the Ms. of the Yerushalmi reproduced by me in Yerushalmi 
Fragments , 86 b, this word is vocalized as DT'Pin Homeras, comp, note 27. 

32 In Hullin, 60 b, two manuscripts have DWto, Aruk pin, DW&n 

and R. Samson of Sens, in his commentary on Yadaim, III, 5, DTfc which 
is very likely a corruption of Dl"iV2. The reading of the Editions DTIS ’HBD 
is quite impossible as no one would ever have dared to say that there 
are verses in Scripture which seem fit to be burned like heretical books. 
The names and histories of certain nations who lived in pre-Mosaic times 
mentioned in Genesis—these are the verses spoken of as the Talmud 
explicitly states—might be said to be superfluous, but certainly not 
heretical and deserving to be burned. The original reading was DWO[n] ’D 
“like story books” and as DWfc was later understood by many to mean 
heretical, a pious copyist added the words pibn, and still later D'i'P 

was substituted for DITfe. Comp., however, Baba Batra 91 a. 

33 R. Akiba himself shows acquaintance with this book; comp. Graetz, 
Gnosticismus, 119, and Bacher, Tannaiten 2 I, 269, note 2. 

34 R. Issachar Baer Eulenburg in his Novellae on Sanhedrin , 100 b. 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


129 


independently proposed the same emendation which was later 
accepted hy Perles (R. E. J. Ill, 116), Joel (Blicke I, 75) and 
Professor Moore. I do not think however that this emendation 
is acceptable. The statement of R. Joseph, Sanhedrin 100b, 
that one is prohibited to read the book of Ben Sira is certainly 
based upon a Tannaitic tradition which counted Ben Sira among 
the prohibited books. In other words this Babylonian Amora, 
celebrated for his great knowledge of Tannaitic traditions (comp. 
Berakot 64a, Horayyot, end) agrees with the view given in our 
text of the Yerushalmi and it would therefore be against all 
canons of criticism to emend it against such high authority for 
its genuineness. It is true the discussion between R. Joseph 
and his pupil Abbay shows that even the master was unable to 
explain the reason of the interdict against the reading of Ben 
Sira and driven into a lurch he had to admit: Were it not 
for the prohibition against Ben Sira by the Rabbis we would 
lecture on the book. 36 This, however, corroborates our view 
that Rabbi Joseph was acquainted with the Tannaitic tradition 
that counted Ben Sira among the 'D and nolens volens 

he had to submit to the authority of the Tannaim. He could not, 
of course, explain this Palestinian view which is based upon 
a different interpretation of D'W’H 'D from that prevailing in 
the Babylonian academies. The Babylonians identified 'D 

with 'D “heretical books” and Ben Sira could not well be 
described as heretical, while the Palestinian authorities correctly 
explain the term used by Rabbi Akiba as referring to “outside 
books” i. e. Apocrypha, especially those among them which were 
very popular, like Ben Sira. 

The above quoted remark of Rabbi Joseph with regard to 
the use of Ben Sira in public lectures shows at the same time 
what is meant by the reading of the “outside books”. Not the 
reading of the Apocrypha was prohibited by Rabbi Akiba, but 
their use in the Synagogues and houses of study for public 
service or instruction. More than twenty years ago I wrote: 
“Akiba protested strongly against the canonicity of certain of 
the Apocrypha, Ecclesiasticus for instance (Sanhedrin X, 1, 

35 The corruption of the text in the Editions is obvious. Read with 
R. Meir Abulafia, ad loc.: mn *n£TD 'mb pn mnn 1*6 '**. 

9 


130 


JOURNAL OP BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Babli ibid. 100b, Yerushalmi ibid. X, 28a) in which passages 
fcTYlp is to be explained according to Kiddushin 49 a and D’OEPH 
according to its Aramaic equivalent 36 NJVD so that Akiba’s 
utterance reads: “He who reads aloud in the Synagogue from 
books not belonging to the Canon as if they were canonical” etc. 
I have little to add to it, except that by reading aloud in the 
Synagogue I meant public study too and not liturgical recitation 
only. The objection raised by Prof. Moore against this inter¬ 
pretation of K. Akiba’s statement can be easily refuted; he 
writes: “The principle, however, seems to have been early 
established that even the acknowledged Hagiographa should 
not be read in the Synagogue”. But the very sources 37 quoted 
by him (Mishna, Shabbat XVI, 1 and Tosefta XIII, 1) show 
clearly that it needed a special ruling of the Babbis to prohibit 
the public reading of the Hagiographa on Sabbath afternoon. 38 
Accordingly these sources assume that but for this ordinance 
the reading of the Hagiographa—i. e. public study—would have 
been quite the thing to be expected. The interpretation of the 
statement of B. Akiba as given in Yerushalmi is therefore not 
only from the philological point of view, but also from the 
historical one by far preferable to that of Babli. The identifi¬ 
cation of D^n with is, as we have seen, hardly possible 
and an interdict against the private reading of heretical books 
by B. Akiba is not very likely. Of his colleague Elisha ben 
Abbuyah 39 it is told that he was a passionate reader of heretical 
books. Later when he became an apostate his unwholesome 
reading was made responsible for his apostasy, but there is not 
the slightest indication that he was censured for his reading. 
The Palestinian Midrashim, even those of comparatively late 

36 On see my article in the Jewish Encyclopedia, s. v. where the 

origin of this term is explained differently from the traditional one. The 
Hebrew nJISTl natPD occurs only in late writings. 

37 Comp, also the passage quoted above, page 118, from Mishnah 
Megillah, end; the reading of the story of Amnon undoubtedly refers not 
to liturgical use of this section of the Bible but to its public study. 

38 Comp. Shabbat, 116 b, where the view of Rab is given that the 
Mishnah refers exclusively to public reading. 

39 Hagigah; Elisha ben Abbuyah was a younger contemporary of R. 
Akibah. 


ginzberg: attitude oe the synagogue 


131 


origin, like the Tanhumas have still the old Palestinian tradition 
that the interdict against the 'D is directed against the 

Apocrypha and not against “heretical books”, comp. Tanhuma 
Buber IV, 59, Tanhuma Behaalotekal5, Bamidbar R. XIV,4 and 
Kohelet 40 R. XII, 12. The last Midrash influenced by Babli 
warns against taking into the house any other book than the 
Bible. Pesikta Rabballl, 9a is likewise partly dependent upon the 
Babli and hence distinguishes between the non-canonical and 
the D^Win D'HSD. One of the outstanding features of the 
later Midrashim is the harmonizing of the Palestinian with the 
Babylonian traditions. 

By an argumentum ex silentio one might prove too much. 
We have seen that in the entire Rabbinic literature of the first 
six centuries of the Common Era there is not one quotation from 
the now extant apocalyptic literature, and an easy explanation 
is at hand. The Jewish schools at Jabneh and Tiberias whose 
literary activities resulted in the production of Talmud and 
Midrash deliberately ignored the writings of their opponents, 
the so-called apocalyptic Pharisees. But how about the many 
other apocryphal writings, not of an apocalyptic nature of which 
not the slightest trace is to be found in the Rabbinical literature? 
Did the Rabbis at Jabneh detect the hidden Sadduceeism of the 
First Book of the Maccabees and withdraw it from circulation? 
They were certainly not Sadducees who, two centuries later, 

40 The present text of the Midrash is corrupt as it contains a self 
contradictory statement. If the “taking into the house” of any other 
book than the Bible “brings confusion”, it is absurd to say that non- 
Biblical books were given for “reading and not for serious study”; books 
that one is not to take into the house were certainly not given for reading. 
In Yerushalmi Sanhedrin, the source of Kohelet Rabba, the translation of 
by “for reading” would give a satisfactory sense, as nothing is said 
there about not taking into the house any non-canonical books. I have 
elsewhere conclusively shown (comp. Eine unbekannte Judische SeJcte, 70, 71; 
see also above note 28) that nan is always “intensive study” or “meditation”. 
The manuscript of the Yerushalmi in my “Yerushalmi Fragments”, 262, 
has the correct reading 'U1 rw'l'b uni JVOn^. The Haggadic interpretation 
of Eccles. 12 12 takes this verse to refer to Scripture which alone is said 
to have been given for meditation and serious study—with the exclusion 
of all other writings which are not a subject for study. Targum paraphrases 
this verse in a very similar manner—on :r6 comp. Erubin, 21 b. 


132 


JOURNAL OR BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


showed the Hebrew text of this apocryphal book to Origen and 
Jerome. It may be profitable to remember that in the entire 
Tannaitic literature only two non-Biblical books are mentioned 
by name: Megillat Taanit (Misbna Taanit II, 8) and Megillat 
Hassidim or Harissim (Sifre, Deut. 48 and Midrasb Tannaim 42); 
the former thanks to its Halakbic contents is still extant, and the 
latter no longer so. The disappearance of the apocalyptic liter¬ 
ature from among the Jews shows as little opposition on the 
part of the Rabbis to it as the disappearance of the Book of 
Judith shows any opposition of the Rabbis against this genuinely 
Pharisaic writing. The Synagogue at the time of the Tannaim 
did not use any hook younger than Daniel and there is not one 
apocalyptic writing that antedates this Biblical hook. One might 
add that, disregarding Ben Sira, which really enjoyed, at least 
for a time a semi-canonical character, it would he as difficult 
to prove the existence of a pre-Maccabean Apocryphon as that 
of a post-Maccabean Biblical hook. There is therefore very 
little probability in the assumption that the Jewish schools that 
survived the destruction of Jerusalem rejected writings “which 
played an important part in the older religious life of Jerusalem 
and the dominions of Herod Antipas in the days when the Temple 
was yet standing and the Jewish state was still a reality”. 41 The 
Rabbis of Jabneh would never have hit upon the time of the 
Maccahean revolution as the end of the period of inspiration. 
This distinction must have been conferred upon the time of the 
Maccabees at a very early date. It is perhaps not superfluous 
to call attention to the fact that the discussion at the school 
of Jabneh concerning the Canon points in the direction of a 
rather liberal attitude towards it, by far more so, than that 
taken by the schools of Shammai and Hillel at the time of the 
Jewish state. Ecclesiastes, Esther and Song of Songs were denied 
admission into the Canon by these schools, while the scholars at 
Jabneh declared them canonical. But there is no book mentioned 
that was excluded at Jabneh from the Canon and there is not 

f 

the least likelihood that there ever existed such a one. 42 

41 Prof. Burkitt, “Jewish and Christian Apocalypses”, 10. 

42 That Ben Sira was a very popular book, no one would deny, but 
where are the proofs that it was considered canonical by Palestinian Jewry? 


ginzberg: attitude oe the synagogue 


133 


Professor Burkitt in liis highly instructive lectures on “Jewish 
and Christian Apocalypses” quotes a saying by Rabban Johanan 
hen Zakkai which, he believes, really implies the renunciation 
of the apocalyptic idea, the notion that the Kingdom of God 
was an external state of things, which was just upon the point 
of being manifested and (as a corollary) that the person of 
insight could know something about it beforehand. This saying 
of Rabban Johanan reads: God revealed to Abram this world, 
but the world to come he did not reveal to him. In a note 
Professor Burkitt remarks that according to Rabbi Akiba, on 
the contrary, God revealed to Abram both this world and that 
which is to come. But, adds Professor Burkitt, Akiba unlike 
Johanan ben Zakkai believed that the Kingdom of God was at 
hand. 43 

If this hcwever be so, one might as well quote R. Akiba’s 
view to prove the predilection of the Rabbis for the apocalyptic 
idea as that of Rabbi Johanan in proof of their opposition to it. 
We know for certain that at the final delineation of the Canon 
Rabban Johanan was no longer living, while Rabbi Akiba took 
a very important part in the deliberations leading to it. Accord¬ 
ingly we certainly would expect a much more favorable attitude 
towards the apocalyptic writings from the school of Jabneh than 
from the schools of Shammai and Hillel in the year 66. That 
Rabbi Akiba did not stand isolated in his expectation of the 
imminent manifestation of the Kingdom of God is clearly shown 
by the “small apocalypse” found in the Mishna Sota, end, the 
only one of its kind in the entire Tannaitic literature. The author 
or transmitter of this apocalypse was no other than “Rabbi 


43 Genesis R. XLIV, 22, states only that R. Johanan and R. Akiba 
differ as to the nature of the revelation, at the “covenant between the 
pieces”, but there is no way of telling who holds the one view and who 
the other, and one may doubt whether the saying attributed to R. Johanan 
by Prof. Burkitt does not really belong to R. Akiba. By the way, the 
difference of opinion between these Tannaim is of a purely exegetical 
nature, based upon the different interpretation of the 2 in Genesis 15 is. 
II Baruch 4 4, and IV Ezra 3 13, 14 agree with the view that the time 
to come was shown to Abram, while among the Amoraim both views are 
represented; comp. Genesis R. 1. c. 


134 


JOURNAL OR BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Eleazar the Great”, 44 the favorite disciple of Rabban Johanan 
ben Zakkai. But even the master himself counted upon the 
speedy appearance of the Messiah with such certainty that one 
of his ordinances regulating a certain religious ceremony had 
its reason in this expectation. 45 

It would therefore not he true to the ascertainable facts to 
maintain that for the leading Rabbis in the first and the second 
generations after the destruction of the Temple the Messianic 
hopes were not as actual and real as they were for the generation 
living at the time of the great catastrophe or shortly before it. 

A saying by Rahban Johanan ben Zakkai truly characteristic 
of the attitude of the Rabbis towards the apocalyptic idea is the 
following one; he said: “If thou hast a sapling in thy hands and 
thou art told: Behold, the Messiah has come, plant thy sapling 
and then go to meet him”. 46 The Apocalyptics cut loose from 
life, the Rabbis were the guardians and leaders of a nation and 
they did not fail to see in the wild and vague visions of those 
dreamers a true menace to the physical and spiritual welfare of 
Israel. 47 Ethics is, if not entirely, at all events preeminently 
social ethics and the apocalyptic movement that flung itself with 
unrestrained imagination upon the future caring nothing for the 
present concerns and perils of the individual and the community 
was not only anti-social but also anti-ethical. If the Prophets 
had any successors they were not the Apocalyptics who forgot 
this world and with it men, but the Rabbis for whom the center 
of gravity of religion was not in a world beyond—important as 
that thought was—but in the actual life of man on earth. It is 
true, the ethical element was not ignored by the apocalyptic 
writers; with some of them it even played an important part. 


44 The reading: R. Joshua ben Hananaiah—another favored pupil of 
R. Johanan—is not based on good authority. 

45 Comp. Rosh Hashanah, 30 a, “speedily the temple will be erected”. 
By “speedily” is meant there, as the content shows, the very next year. 
Comp, also Taanit 17 a: TIDN. 

46 II Abot. R. Nathan, XXX, 67. Read instead of “jb. 

47 It would be very difficult to prove the contention that the attitude 
of the apocalyptic authors toward the Torah was different from that 
taken by the Rabbis. 


ginzberg: attitude of the synagogue 


135 


This, however, must not deceive us, any more than it did the 
great Rabbis, who clearly perceived that the apocalyptic view, 
which lacked touch with the vital problems of man, really 
endangered the moral element in the Jewish religion. 

The “end ? ’ is the outstanding feature of the apocalyptic writings 
and one is apt to forget of what great importance the “beginning” 
was to these authors. Yet very likely the vagaries and fantas- 
magoria of the apocalypses about creation or, to use the term 
of the Rabbis, “the works at the beginning”, were primarily 
responsible for the disappearance of this kind of literature from 
among the Jews. As early as the time of Rabban Johanan ben 
Zakkai we meet with the prohibition against discussing the 
“beginning” with more than one person and this prohibition was 
the death knell for a goodly number of the apocalypses. A matter 
not to be discussed becomes quickly a matter not to be read. 48 

The demonology and angelology of the apocalypses not rarely 
discussed by them in connection with the story of creation were 
again of a nature that could not but repulse those who were not 
blind to the danger lurking in the attempt to turn popular fancy 
into a system of theology. The Rabbis and, of course, still more 
so the people undoubtedly believed in the existence of angels 
and demons. But like many other popular beliefs, they meant 
very little in the religious life of the people and still less in that 
of the Rabbis. The apocalyptic writings began to make wide 
use of these popular beliefs, first for purely literary reasons. In 
describing, for instance, an ascension to Heaven one could not 
well dispose of the angels or the description would have fallen 
flat; when God commands man can only obey, with an angel 
one can argue and dispute. Nor are the demons to be neglected, 
if one strives to achieve dramatic effects, as, for instance, the 
author of the book of Enoch in describing the depravity of 
mankind at the time of the deluge. What at the beginning was 
merely literary form gradually became theology, angels and 
demons began to be considered from a speculative point of view. 

48 Comp. Mishnah Hagigah II, 1, and Tosefta, II, 1. It is worth 
while noticing that Daniel is one of the very few apocalypses that does 
not contain cosmological speculations, and this apocalypse is the only one 
admitted into the canon. 


136 


JOURNAL OR BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


The true leaders of Judaism saw the danger and therefore 
avoided as far as possible in their sayings and writings even the 
mentioning of angels and demons. It is certainly not an accident 
that the Mishna never speaks of angels or demons and that in 
the other Tannaitic sources they are very rarely referred to. 

Of course, it would be an error to infer from it any disregard 
for angels and demons on the part of the Rabbis. But it is a 
far more grievous error to see in the widely developed demon¬ 
ology and angelology of the apocalypses the religious conceptions 
and sentiments of the people (Yolksfrommigkeit), in opposition 
to the teachings of the scribes (Schriftgelehrtentum) as found in 
the Tannaitic literature. Whatever the Rabbis might have been, 
we must not think of them as a class by themselves separated 
from the people; they were neither monks nor professors. They 
were of the people, lived with the people and worked for the 
people. Accordingly the most pronounced feature of the Hagga- 
dah of the Tannaim is its popular character, a great part thereof 
being the spoken word addressed by the Rabbis to the people. 
The apocalyptic writings by their fixed literary forms and their 
obscurities were not meant for the people, but for the initiated 
ones. The true mirror of the religious life of the Jews we find 
therefore in the homely and simple sayings and the teachings 
of the Rabbis and not in the literary productions of the Apo¬ 
calyptic writers who wrote primarily for a “class” of men like 
themselves and not for the people. 


SCOTT: APOCALYPTICAL CONCEPTIONS IN JESUS 


137 


THE PLACE OF APOCALYPTICAL CONCEPTIONS 

IN THE MIND OF JESUS 


E. F. SCOTT 

UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 


30UT twenty years have now passed since the apocalyptic 



theory of the Gospels came to the fore-front, and contro¬ 
versy has had time in the interval to follow the usual course. 
Extreme positions were at first adopted on either side. There 
were many scholars, liberal as well as conservative, who fought 
against the new interpretation, while others espoused it with a 
juvenile ardour, and insisted, like Schweitzer, that the teaching 
of Jesus must all be resolved into a “consistent eschatology”. 
Since then the opinions on both sides have grown more moderate. 
It cannot be said that any full agreement is yet in sight, but at 
any rate w T e have learned to approach the question dispassionately. 
Those who were frightened by the new hypothesis have now got 
accustomed to it, and are willing to acknowledge that at some 
points it answers to the facts. Those who were dazzled by its 
novelty are coming to see it in due perspective, and to do justice 
to other aspects of the thought of Jesus which they formerly 
left out of account. 

That Jesus was in sympathy with the apocalyptic hopes of 
his time and that he understood them in no merely metaphorical 
sense, can now be regarded as certain. He took up the message 
of John the Baptist, who undoubtedly announced a Kingdom of 
God such as the people were looking for. He proclaimed his 
gospel in terms which bore a definite apocalyptic meaning, and 
we cannot believe that he perplexed his hearers by employing 
them in some new esoteric sense of his own. His sayings about 


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the nature of the Kingdom and the manner of its coming can 
be parallelled again and again from the surviving apocalyptic 
literature. Add to all this that the primitive church admittedly 
looked for his return in Messianic glory to inaugurate a visible 
Kingdom of God. There is indeed every ground for believing 
that the church accentuated the apocalyptic note in his message. 
Not only were the disciples very ordinary men, who would 
interpret in a crude and literal sense much that he may have 
spoken figuratively, but they were overpowered by the tremendous 
events which had closed his career. They were in a mood to 
expect miracles, and to read back a marvellous significance into 
all that he had done and said. The promises recorded in the 
Gospels may in large measure be the outcome of those extrav¬ 
agant hopes which prevailed in the early church. Yet there 
must have been something in the teaching itself that warranted 
the interpretation now placed on it. 

Admitting, however, that he worked with apocalyptic ideas it 
by no means follows that everything in his message must he fitted 
into a “consistent eschatology”. This phrase, indeed, is meaning¬ 
less, for the one thing certain about Jewish apocalyptic thinking 
is that it had no consistency. In their forecasts of the final 
events no two of the extant writings are consistent with each 
other, and no one writing, for that part, is consistent with itself. 
There are certain broad ideas which pervade apocalyptic as a 
whole, but the different writers all feel themselves at liberty to 
modify and adapt them, and to express their own beliefs in terms 
of the traditional imagery. Are we to demand from Jesus alone 
that every detail in his forecast must bear a fixed meaning, and 
fit in exactly with a rigid scheme? We recognise that the authors 
of Enoch and 4 Esdras had a practical purpose in view, and 
that it modified and controlled their apocalyptic thinking. Are 
we to assume that Jesus sacrificed everything to apocalyptic 
consistency? He may surely he credited also with some practical 
religious purpose, which meant more to him than the forms in 
which he expressed it. 

So the apocalyptic of Jesus is not consistent, even if it be 
granted that his teaching is mainly apocalyptic. But this cannot 
be granted. The apocalyptic element does not bulk largely in 


SCOTT: APOCALYPTICAL CONCEPTIONS IN JESUS 


139 


the record, even as we have it, and when due allowance is made 
for all that has been read in by the evangelists it shrinks to a 
far smaller proportion. The affinities of Jesus when we judge 
him by his teaching as a whole were much more with the prophets 
than with the apocalyptists. That the apocalyptic strain is present, 
often where we might least suspect it, need not he denied. It 
runs through the Sermon on the Mount and the Lord’s Prayer, 
as well as through the sayings about the future. But its function 
almost everywhere is to enforce a message that is not apocalyptic. 
Even for John the Baptist the hope of the Kingdom had value, 
not for its own sake, but as the lever for a moral appeal. “The 
day is at hand,—you are to stand presently before the Judge: 
therefore repent.” Much more the real message of Jesus is 
independent of the apocalyptic ideas and can easily he detached 
from them. His demand was for a new kind of life, a new relation 
to God, and while he looked for the Kingdom his interest was 
in those moral requirements which it involved. 

Indeed it may fairly be argued that although Jesus fell in 
with the apocalyptic outlook his thought was in inward contra¬ 
diction to it, and that not a few of the difficulties which have 
been brought to light by the modern enquiry are due to this 
cause. The two outstanding features of apocalyptic thought are 
that the Kingdom lies in the future, and that it will come 
suddenly by the immediate act of God. However much they 
differ in their conceptions the apocalyptists all share these two 
primary beliefs; and they could not do otherwise, in view of the 
very nature of apocalyptic. It was the outgrowth of a profound 
pessimism. For the time being God seemed to have withdrawn 
from the government of the world. Doubtless he was still King, 
but with the evil present He could do nothing, and His people 
must be content to wait patiently for the coming day when he 
would assert His sovereignty. It followed that when His Kingdom 
did come it would appear suddenly and miraculously. In the 
world now running to decay there were no regenerating forces 
which by their own action would gradually bring about the better 
time. God must Himself interpose, by an immediate act of power. 

Now these fundamental beliefs of apocalyptic were both foreign 
to the mind of Jesus. Not only so, but they were directly opposed 


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to the convictions he lived by, and which underlie all his teaching. 
He believed that God rules the world and that everything is 
ordered by Him, so that not a sparrow falls to the ground without 
His knowledge. In this absolute trust that God is sovereign he 
submitted himself unreservedly to the will of God, and called 
on his followers to do likewise. To be sure he says much about 
the coming Kingdom, yet what he demands is not the apocalyptic 
faith that in some future time all wrongs will be righted, but 
the faith that God is reigning now, in spite of all the mystery 
in which His ways are enshrouded. This is the very heart of the 
religion of Jesus. If we conceive of him as merely the herald of 
a future Kingdom we take the key-stone out of his teaching and 
out of the whole story of his life. In like manner, he is in conflict 
with the apocalyptic view that no forces for good are working 
in the present, and that if the Kingdom comes it must break in 
by a miraculous act. He sees the goodness of God in the rain 
and the sunshine, in the natural kindness of men to one another, 
in the impulses that are continually leading them to better things. 
He makes his appeal, ever and again, to the goodness that is 
present in men, and tries to foster and direct it, so that it may 
help on the divine purposes. Kot only does he recognise that 
forces for good are operative, but he believes that in the last 
resort there are no other forces. Evil by its nature is unreal 
and self-destructive. Only the good has power, and those who 
follow it may be confident that sooner or later it will overcome, 
and fulfil itself. With such a belief as this he did not need to 
expect the apocalyptic miracle. To stake everything upon it 
would indeed have been little short of treason to his own deepest 
convictions. Men had come to look for it because their faith 
had failed, because they had ceased to discern the moral forces 
or had despaired of their effecting anything. The whole aim of 
Jesus was to restore that faith which apocalyptic, with its doctrine 
of a Kingdom which could only come by miracle, had implicitly 
denied. 

There has been much discussion of those isolated sayings in 
which Jesus appears to speak of the Kingdom as in some sense 
present. Most of them can be explained away, and it has often 
been assumed that when we have got rid of them his thought 


SCOTT: APOCALYPTICAL CONCEPTIONS IN JESUS 


141 


falls perfectly into line with that of the apocalyptists. To some 
writers this has appeared so certain that they construe the ethical 
teaching as nothing more than an “interim ethic”, valid only for 
the short interval before the Kingdom will set in. Others, like 
Professor Lake in the “Beginnings of Christianity”, have more 
iustly inferred that Jesus did not bind himself to apocalyptic 
theory, but was influenced also by Babbinical conceptions of the 
Kingdom as already in being. A new and hopeful field of enquiry 
is opened by this suggestion. But the problem after all is not 
one of balancing a few disputed sayings against a number of 
others, of apparently different tenor. We have rather to deal 
with a contradiction between the forms employed by Jesus and 
the inner drift and purport of his message. He declared that 
the Kingdom was future and must come suddenly and miracu¬ 
lously, as the apocalyptists had taught; and yet he never wavers 
in his belief that God is reigning, God is silently working noiv. 
Was he himself aware of the contradiction? Probably not. He 
took over the apocalyptic ideas as they were current in his time, 
without reflecting on their origin or on the philosophy that lay 
behind them. While accepting them with full sincerity he took 
from them what he needed, allowing all the rest to fall out of 
sight. They served to make real to him his vision of a better 
world, in which the will of God should absolutely prevail. They 
offered him a definite goal towards which he could work and to 
which he could point his followers. But all the time they were 
borrowed from a type of thought which was alien to him, and we 
are not justified in so emphasizing them as to hide his distinctive 
message. Jewish apocalyptic, when all is said, has not provided 
us with the key to the teaching of Jesus. At the most it has 
given us the key to his mode of expressing himself, to the forms 
under which he thought and by which he was restricted. The 
real task still remains of exploring the message itself. 

The recent attempts to construe the gospel as an apocalyptic 
must therefore be regarded as mistaken, or at any rate as one¬ 
sided. It would be truer to maintain that Jesus destroyed the 
apocalyptic view of the world, just as he destroyed the Law, 
although in both cases he claimed to be fulfilling. While he 
speaks in apocalyptic language and declares that the expected 


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Kingdom is just at hand, he throws all the weight on ideas T of 
a moral and spiritual nature. He makes the apocalyptic hope 
subserve these ideas, which were bound in process of time to 
burst the apocalyptic sheath. This, as a matter of history, is 
what happened before the first century was over. The message 
of Jesus as its true implications came to light was found to have 
shattered the apocalyptic scheme which at first seemed vital to 
it. Jesus himself, like other great teachers, was unable to foresee 
the consequences of his own thought. He held to the apocalyptic 
beliefs and so expressed his message that it might seem to be 
wholly determined by them. Millennarians can appeal confidently 
to his actual words. A writer like Tyrrell can plausibly argue that 
the concern of Jesus was wholly with the coming supernatural 
order, and that his gospel is best presented in the symbols and 
sacraments by which the Catholic church attaches itself to that 
order. But a deeper criticism will only strengthen the conviction 
which has always forced itself on the plain sense of Christian 
men. For the mind of Jesus the apocalyptic ideas were not 
primary. He believed in the new will, in the wisdom and goodness 
of the Father who ordains all things, in the moral forces which 
in the end will overcome all evil. By means of apocalyptic, and 
when necessary in spite of it, He sought to proclaim this faith. 


bacon: the son or man in the usage or jesus 


143 


THE ‘SON OF MAN’ IN THE USAGE OF JESUS 

B. W. BACON 

YALE UNIVERSITY 

T O students accustomed to think of “meekness and low¬ 
liness” as typical traits in the personal character of Jesus 
there was distinct relief in the authoritative declaration of 
eminent philologians some twenty years ago, that the self¬ 
designation ‘the Son of Man’ would be unintelligible in the 
Palestinian Aramaic of Jesus’ time, so that the title with all 
its connotations of superhuman authority and dignity must be 
ascribed to the period after the development of the resurrection 
faith, and could not be an embodiment of Jesus’ thought 
concerning himself. 

The relief was all the greater to students who deplored the 
exaggeration, on the part of the so-called Eschatological school, 
of the extent to which Jesus’ admitted acceptance of current 
apocalyptic beliefs affected his primary message. Some of us 
still feel that his primary message was of a different, almost 
an opposite type; a message of faith and hope, not of despair; 
glad tidings of a Power for good already at work in the world, 
and manifesting itself in human hearts, a Power like the subtle 
working of leaven, or the vitality of seeds, to whose quiet, 
inconspicuous working would be due the real accomplishment 
whereof the dramatic Day of Jehovah would be little more 
than the “manifestation”. 

Then came Dalman’s Worte Jesu which seemed to prove, 
against those of the school of Schmidt and Wellhausen, that 
Jesus could quite well have employed the term Bar nasha in 
the sense required by the Gospel contexts, if he had so chosen, 


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without becoming unintelligible to his auditors. He would have 
been understood to mean by it “that ‘mortal’ (Menschenkind) 
referred to in Dan. 7 13 as ‘brought with clouds to the Ancient 
of Days’, to receive on Israel’s behalf the everlasting kingdom”. 
None of these expressions, ‘the kingdom’, ‘the Ancient of Days’, 
‘the Son of Man’ would be intelligible in Jesus’ utterance 
without implied reference to former use in a special and 
technical sense. But we certainly know that such technical use 
had been made of the first of the three, and there seems to 
be no small amount of evidence that such was the case also 
with the last. To what extent the expression Bar nasha was 
actually current in this sense is not the primary question, nor 
is it the extent to which it may have acquired, through the 
usage of Enoch and similar apocalypses, new connotations not 
intended in Daniel. The primary question is simply: Could 
Jesus have used the term as the Gospels represent, though not 
necessarily on the particular occasions, nor with the particular 
intention and connotation which they assume? This question, 
it would appear, can only be answered in the affirmative. One 
cannot object the non-appearance of the term in Paul, because 
Paul has other means of presenting the same doctrine, and 
unlike the evangelists was not translating from the Aramaic. 

Those who were reluctant to accept Dalman’s proofs that 
Jesus might have used the apocalyptic term might be expected 
on the other hand to welcome his suggestion that Jesus used 
it in a sense nearer to the original, Danielic sense than to 
that placed upon it by the apocalyptists who took it over. 
According to Dalman Jesus used the title Son of Man only 
to mean what I may call the Suppliant on Israel’s behalf at 
the judgment-seat of the King of kings. In his own words 
(op. cit. p. 217): 

If Jesus attached to Peter’s confession of his Messiahship 
the first announcement of his violent death, this was in order 
to make it clear that accession to his dominion was still far 
off, and that Christhood did not imply, but on the contrary 
excluded, his intervening on his own behalf. Now the “one 
like unto a son of man” of Dan. 7 13 is one who has yet to 
receive his dominion. He might be one who should have 


bacon: the son of man in the usage of jesus 145 

passed through suffering and death. In any case he is by 
his very nature no mighty one, no conqueror, no destroyer, 
but merely a ‘mortal’ (Menschenkind), whom God has taken 
under his protection, and for whom he destines great things. 

Unfortunately this distinction of Dalman’s between the 
ordinary, apocalyptic sense in which the title was commonly 
understood in Jesus time, and the purely Danielic original 
sense ol a suppliant Son of Man, is not borne out by the 
Gospel records. Jesus has indeed but slight sympathy with 
the apocalyptists; but we have no ground in this case as in 
his employment of the title “Messiah” (x/ucrros), for maintaining 
that he undertook to raise the ordinary term to a new level 
of meaning “according to the things of God’ 7 . The Gospels 
offer no indication as regards this title that he used it in any 
other than the commonly accepted sense. For if he had made 
the distinction there was the greatest occasion for the evangelists 
noting the fact. 

Two points, however, do seem to have been established by 
Dalman and later writers in the course of this long controversy. 

(1) Jesus did make frequent use, even in his earlier ministry, 
of this peculiar expression “the Son of Man”, using it as a 
designation for the agent of divine justice in Jehovah’s ‘Day’. 1 

(2) In the latter part of his ministry Jesus so far departed 
from his usual objective, non-committal references to ‘the Son 
of Man’, his ‘Day 7 , or his ‘Coming 7 , and the like, as to suggest 
to his disciples a connection between this event and his own 
fate; though the suggestion may not have been brought home 
to them until the tragedy of Calvary recalled it in a lurid light. 

If I may be permitted to anticipate the results of the study 
which I must presently describe in detail I would suggest the 
following as the historical facts which best account for all the 
phenomena. 

(1) From the outset Jesus had a Son of Man doctrine. 
In taking up the Baptist’s warning to repentance J esus could 

i On this point see the definite pronouncement of the editors of 
Beginnings of Christianity , vol. I, p. 374: “Few things are so probable 
as the use of Son of Man by Jesus”. 


10 


146 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


not but refer to the Being of whom John had spoken as coining 
after him to winnow Jehovah’s threshing-floor, gathering the 
wheat into his garner, and burning up the chaff with unquench¬ 
able fire, John is not speaking of Jehovah, to whom the saying 
“I am not worthy to loose his shoe’s latchet” would not he 
applicable. Neither does he mean the Angel of the Covenant, 
of whom the phraseology derived from Malachi might incline 
us to think. The personality in mind is human, though endowed 
with miraculous powers, for it is when he hears of “the mighty 
works” done by Jesus that John sends to enquire: “Art thou 
the Coming One (6 €px<W°s)?” The personality is the same, 
though John does not use (perhaps we may say, avoids using) 
the distinctive title. 

(2) Jesus uses the distinctive title, but from the very nature 
of the case cannot have used it in application to himself during 
that period of his ministry wherein his messiahship was still a 
‘secret’. In all his utterances down to the revelation of this 
secret to the Twelve at Caesarea Philippi, and in all his public 
utterances down to the last, Jesus’ use of the title must have 
been impersonal and objective, as who should say: “He whom 
Jehovah will send to execute His judgment”. This necessary 
reserve is vividly illustrated in the incident of the Baptist’s 
Enquiry; for the reply is purposely ambiguous. Its substance 
is: “Tell John of the work of saving grace which you see God 
accomplishing through me, and not to let the question of my 
personality stand in the way of the hope and cheer it should 
bring him”. The refusal of a categorical reply on the question 
put stands at swords’ points with the representation of the 
evangelist that in the very next breath Jesus openly spoke of 
himself to the surrounding multitude as “the Son of Man”. 
The evangelist’s idea is not that of his source. 

(3) After the close of the Galilean ministry, confronted with 
the alternative of abandoning his mission to Israel or carrying 
his message to the national centre, Jesus, reveals the fact that 
he has also a Son of David doctrine. In spite of recent very 
high authority in denial of this, no other explanation of the 
course of events from this time on until the rallying of the 
scattered flock under leadership of Peter to the watchword 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


147 


“God hath made him both Lord and Christ” seems to me 
historically credible. From Caesarea Philippi on the movement 
ot Jesus took on a nationalistic character. The religious ideal 
was to be attained through Israel’s acceptance of his leader¬ 
ship in place of the husbandmen who refused to Jehovah the 
fruits of His vineyard. It is impossible to imagine belief in 
his messiahship growing up after the crucifixion. It is almost 
equally impossible to account for the conduct of friends or 
enemies before the great catastrophe without this claim on 
Jesus’ part to messianic leadership. 

(4) The problem grows out of the relation of these two 
beliefs, in this chronological relation. Not, first the doctrine 
of personal adherence to Jesus as Son of David, to which 
certain more or less incongruous attributes of the Son of Man 
become attached; but, first a doctrine of the Coming One, the 
Son of Man, quite without reference to the person of Jesus, 
followed through pressure of harsh necessity by the appeal to 
a personal loyalty centering in Jesus as anointed Leader of 
Israel toward a kingdom “according to the things of God”. 
For 

(5) At Caesarea Philippi the alternative had also to be 
faced of rejection and death. This was indeed the more probable 
of the two. Would this mean the failure of the divine ideal? 
Certainly not. But if not, the victory would have to come “on 
the clouds of heaven”. The kingdom must be given not to a 
Son of David here on earth, but to a Son of Man (who may 
of course be no other than this same Son of David) at the 
judgment seat of the Highest. Until Calvary no follower of 
Jesus could have said by which road the deliverance must 
come. After it, rallying faith could not fail to lay hold of the 
Danielic prophecy to which the Gospels with one consent bear 
witness Jesus had himself appealed in presenting the alternative; 
and the bridge was the Isaian doctrine ot the sacrificed Servant. 
Over this the broken following of Jesus, dismayed at the tragedy 
because unwilling with him to contront the darker as well as 
the more hopeful alternative, returned to its allegiance and an 
ultimate triumph. 

On the whole it seems improbable that Jesus himself made 


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any appeal to the Isaian prophecy. But Paul is explicit in 
teaching that this was a foundation stone of the primitive 
faith. All sources unite in attributing to Peter and his associates 
in the first days after the great tragedy, the discovery, as by 
revelation of God, that “thus it behooved the Christ to suffer 
and to enter into his glory”. First the doctrine of the Coming 
One, the Son of Man; second the doctrine of the Son of David, 
to whom it is the Father’s good pleasure to give the kingdom; 
third the discovery that “according to the Scriptures” the 
Servant humbled and obedient unto a sacrificial death, is also 
he who is “exalted and made very high”. Such is the progress 
of doctrine according to the testimony of New Testament 
Christology. Whether the phenomena of the documents in their 
use of the title Son of Man bear out this provisional under¬ 
standing is the problem with which we have now to concern 
ourselves. 

The most recent, and certainly one of the most scholarly 
discussions of this subject appears in Chapter IV of the well 
known work Beginnings of Christianity (1920) under the caption 
“Christology”. The authors agree that analysis of Mark, our 
oldest Gospel, reveals the fact that to this evangelist Jesus 
was preeminently “the Christ”, but (as these authors hold) not 
because he was “the Son of David”; rather because he was the 
Son of Man. The efforts of the later Synoptists to overcome the 
adverse implications of Mk. 12 35-37 by prefixing the genealogies 
and stories of the infancy they regard as a leading proof “that 
Jesus did not claim to be or consider himself to be the ‘Davidic 
Messiah”’ (p. 366). This was a subsequent development possibly 
“hastened by the conversion to Christianity of Jews who had 
maintained the claims of the Davidic dynasty against the 
Hasmonaeans or the Herods”. By the time of the later strata 
of Synoptic tradition and the earlier chapters of Acts: 
the identification of Jesus with the Scion of David had 
become a prominent part of Christian belief; to prove the 
Davidic claim of Jesus is one of the chief objects of the 
genealogies in Matthew and Luke. But the figure of the 
Scion of David had coalesced with that of the Son of Man 
rather than taken its place, and the term ‘Christ’ covered 


bacon: the son of man in the usage OF JESUS 149 

both. Moreover, this merging of the two figures with each 
other was the result of their identification with Jesus, not 
the cause ot it. The Anointed Son of Man is the anointed 
son ot David not because the two figures were originally 
identical, or because ‘anointed’ was a Jewish title which 
could only belong to one person, but because Christians 
found both the Son of Man and the Son of David in Jesus, 
and therefore were forced to say that the Son of Man is the 
Son of David, and to attribute to either figure everything 
believed or prophesied of the other. 

We can agree to the conclusion drawn by the editors that 
“the idea of the Son of David was added to that of the Son of 
Man, rather than the Son of Man to that of the Son of David” 
if it be recognized that the “merging of the two figures” is 
not a mere literary phenomenon in the early history of Gospel 
tradition, but something for which Jesus is himself responsible, 
whether in explicit words, or by implication, when he compelled 
his disciples to face the unwelcome possibility of martyrdom. 
Mark is indeed careful to show that in identifying himself with 
“the Christ” Jesus expressly disclaimed “Davidic” messiahship. 
That is called a conception “after the things of men”, Satanic, 
part of the blindness which even Peter still shares with his 
people. According to Mark Jesus claims to be “the Christ” 
only in so far as this title has the apocalyptic sense of Son 
of Man. For this reason he attaches after his account of 
Peter’s Confession a story of vision and Voice from heaven 
manifesting to Peter and his companions the true nature ot 
the Christ and his redemptive work. It is to be “not according 
to the things of men, but of God”. What seems to be over¬ 
looked in this able discussion of Markan Christology is the 
fact that this Gospel evinces not a primitive so much as an 
advanced stage in Christian belief. The Christ ayeveaXoyrjTos of 
Ps. 110 belongs to the typical Christology of the writer of 
Hebrews. Paul not only places this Christology in the very 
forefront of his systematic presentation of his gospel (Rom. 1 4) ? 
but forestalls Mark’s antithesis between it and the mundane 
Christhood both here (Rom. 1 3) and elsewhere (II Cor. 5 16). 
In this opposition to the Son of David Christology Mark 


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is not so much primitive as Pauline, and in opposing he pre¬ 
supposes. For the disproof of the expectation of “the scribes’ 7 
in Mk. 12 35-37 is as much an answer to the cry “Thou son of 
David” of Bartimaeus and the multitude (10 47f; 11 10 ) as the 
Transfiguration vision to the Confession of Peter. Mk. 12 35-37 
is an editorial supplement to the debate with Pharisee, Sad- 
ducee, and Scribe (12 13-34), not an original feature of the 
source. The Roman evangelist is anti-Jewish Christian. 

Nor is Mark primitive in his use of the title Son of Man. 
He borrows it unexplained from earlier sources, assuming that 
his readers will know that it was (to use the modern phrase) 
“a favorite self-designation of Jesus”. His prologue (Mk. 1 1 - 1 3), 
in which Jesus is simply “the Christ”, “the Son of God” in 
the sense of I Pt. l 20 f. (not to say of Col. 1 15 - 17 ), defines his 
Christology once for all. He uses the title Son of Man as the 
appropriate one for certain connections (whose significance we 
have to search into), but his readers are supposed to know 
that this is a title which should have reminded the Jews of 
a Christhood according to the things of God, which they in 
their 7ru>pa)cns were blind to. 

We cannot, therefore, accept the conclusion of our Cambridge 
scholars that: 

The Christians who first of all regarded Jesus as the anointed 
Son of Man, the judge of the world, came soon to accept 
the popular expectation and to regard Jesus as the anointed 
Scion of David as well as the Son of Man. 

Previous to his death Jesus’ followers did not regard him as 
the Son of Man. The turning point of their faith was when, 
after the catastrophe, they began to do so. But they might 
never have come to the point of making this identification, near 
as it lay in view of Jesus’ words of assurance as he neared 
the cross, had not the coincidence of his work and fate with 
that predicted for the Isaian Servant come first to their mind. 
We do agree, however, with these eminent scholars that the 
solution of the question must come through tracing 

the meaning and connotation of these other titles (besides 
X/kotos) —Son of Man and Servant—in order to see how much 


bacon: the son oe man in the usage of JESCJS 


151 


they represent in the earliest thought of the disciples, and 
how they were treated by Gentiles who had no previous 
knowledge of their meaning. t 

For this purpose our authors subjoin a table of occurrences 
of the title Son of Man in I. Marcan Passages; II. Passages 
in Q; III. Passages peculiar to Matthew; IY. Passages peculiar 
to Luke (p. 375 f.). By comparison of these statistics two main 
inferences are drawn. (1) Mark and Q agree in the mass of 
passages “in which ‘Son of Man’ is used in connection with 
the Parousia. He is to come unexpectedly on the clouds of 
heaven, seated at the right hand of power”. (2) “In Mark, 
but not in Q, there are equally noticeable passages in which 
the name of Son of Man is connected not with the Parousia, 
but with the Passion”. These outstanding facts can only be 
accepted. It is doubtless also the fact that the Gospel writers 
have in a number of instances substituted the title for a simple 
“I” of the original, and probable that in one case (Mt. 8 20 = 
Lk. 9 58) —a case not so reckoned by the authors—‘Son of Man’ 
is due to literal translation of an Aramaic proverbial saying. 2 
The three passages which the Cambridge authors adduce as 
instances of this we cannot accept. We reject the first (Mk. 
2 28) because verse 27 , on which their argument is based, is a 
typical instance of ‘Western non-interpolation’ and so forms 
no part of the authentic text. We reject the other two because 
of difference of interpretation. 3 Finally we must demur to the 
statement (p. 386) that “In Mark and Q there are no signs 
of any identification of Jesus with the sufferer of Isaiah 53”. 
The references to Isaiah in Mark are rare, and even of these 
Mk. 9 12 has all the appearance of a gloss (though a gloss 
already known to Matthew; cf. Mt. 17 12 ). But “the Son of 
Man goeth, even as it is written of him” (Mk. 14 21 ) is surely 
a “clear reference to Is. 53”, and confirms the indications that 
“the use of the word 7rapa8i8a)[u in Mark 14 18 , 21 , etc., is con¬ 
nected with the constant use of the same word in Isaiah 53”. 
True, Mark is no more primary in his use ot the Servant theme 

2 See below, p. 159. 

3 See below, p. 163. 


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JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITEKATURE 


than in his use of Son of David, or Son of Man. His references 
(including the reference to Ps. 22 1 in the duplicate to Mk. 15 37 
prefixed in verses 34-36) are borrowed and unexplained. But 
in addition to his confirmation of the witness of Q that Jesus 
habitually spoke of the Coming one of John the Baptist as 
“the Son of Man” Mark certainly warrants our laying down 
the following as historic facts. 

(1) From the time when Jesus set his face to go up to 
Jerusalem, but not before, Jesus turned his disciples’ attention 
to his own personality, placing loyalty to himself in the fore¬ 
ground as essential to the cause. 

(2) Without this change from an impersonal preaching of 
repentance in view of impending judgment to a direct effort to 
inaugurate a national movement under his personal leadership 
neither the popular support accorded to Jesus in his defiance 
of the hierocracy at Jerusalem, nor his execution by Pilate, 
nor the subsequent rallying to his banner of adherents who 
proclaimed him “the Christ”, predicting his return as Son of 
Man, and explaining his sufferings as divinely appointed for 
the Servant, can be made historically intelligible. 

(3) The self-devoting loyalty which animated J esus’ followers 
and explains this historical sequence was not obtained on the 
plea: “This is the Son of Man”; but “This is the Son of David”. 
The more Mark is opposed to a Jewish-Christian type of 
Christology the more conclusive is his unwilling witness to 
this fact. 

In order to show that the phenomena of the Gospels in 
their employment of the title Son of Man are in accordance 
with the growth of Christology as thus described we may now 
turn to a new survey of these emplojunents, using a tabulation 
made independently of the present issues by Professor N. Schmidt, 
s. v. “Son of Man” in the Encyclopaedia Biblica (vol. iv., col. 4713). 

A beginning has been made in the task of discriminating 
the usage of the various Gospel writers by Harnack in his at¬ 
tempted reconstruction of the “Second Source”. 4 We may 

4 Spriiche und Reden, English: The Sayings of Jesus, the Second Source 
of St. Matthew and St. Luke, 1908. 


BACON: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


153 


properly speak of this “Second Source” as the oldest, for Well- 
hausen’s attempt to explain the relation between it and Mark 
by dependence on the side of Mark has been reversed by 
almost unanimous consent. Harnack himself leaves open the 
question whether the relation in the case of Mark is that of 
direct literary dependence; but on the question of priority he 
feels no hesitation. After isolating by the usual processes the 
Q (or Second-Source) material, he undertakes the enquiry 
whether in it “the Son of Man” is already assumed to be “a 
favorite self-designation of Jesus”. One who carefully follows 
his study of all the data will find it hard to escape the con¬ 
clusion that in Q such is really the case. Harnack states his 
conclusion as follows (p. 239): 

We must acknowledge that in Q the phrase has become 
simply a term which our Lord ordinarily used when speaking 
of himself. Seeing that Q pays no regard to chronology, 
this source is not suitable as an authority upon which to 
base investigations as to the period at which our Lord began 
so to describe himself. Such investigations can only be based 
upon the Gospel of St. Mark. Q, however, gives some help 
in that we learn from this source how completely and quickly 
the consciousness, that there was once a time when our Lord 
did not so name himself, had vanished from tradition. There 
can scarcely be any doubt as to the sense of the expression 
in Q. If in Q the only historical passages—historical, that 
is, in the narrower sense of the word—are the narratives 
of the testimony of the Baptist to the coming Messiah, (of 
the Baptism), and of the Messianic temptation, and if then 
abruptly and repeatedly the expression “the Son of Man” 
crops up in the collection of sayings, it necessarily follows 
that in Q the term can mean nothing else than “the Messiah” 

Harnack, accordingly, considers that the title “Son of Man” 
had already been introduced in this precanonical source in a 
systematic way, as equivalent to “the Messiah”. In Q, as later, 
it occurs only in the mouth of Jesus. As reported by Matthew 
(not Luke) the Source itself refers to Jesus as 6 X/wro$ (Mt. 
11 2?). But Harnack justly regards the representation as 


154 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


unhistorical, at least as respects “the period at which our Lord 
began so to describe himself”. In a footnote to the passage 
he is quite specific: 

Of course one cannot be sure that Jesus always called himself 
Son of Man in those passages where Q makes him thus speak 
of himself. It is, for example, more than doubtful that Jesus 
used the expression in section 15 (Mt. 1119 = Lk. 7 34), when 
before, in the same discourse (section 14, Mt. 11 2 ff. ■= Lk. 
7 18 ff.), he had plainly enough avoided any messianic self¬ 
designation. 

In recognizing such systematic self-designation by Jesus to 
be inadmissible for the earlier period of the ministry Harnack 
is of course only confirming the admission of Dalman. Both 
yield to the common-sense consideration that such use would 
he incompatible with Jesus’ admitted ‘reserve’ regarding his 
own person and destiny. But in referring us to Mark for more 
reliable testimony Harnack certainly does not promote the 
solution of the problem. For notoriously neither Mark nor any 
other extant Gospel gives any explanation of the term itself, 
nor of the use to which it is put by Jesus. If an explanation 
be sought we must seek it in the remoter period back of our 
extant Gospels. 

For Mark is fully as unhistorical and anachronistic as Q 
in his representation of the usage of Jesus. At the very outset, 
in Mk. 2 10 and 28, this evangelist represents Jesus as meeting 
the objection of the scribes to his pronouncing forgiveness of 
sins, and of the Pharisees to his disregard of the Sabbath, by 
a defiant claim to have authority as “the Son of Man”, even 
while still on earth, before ascending to his heavenly judgment 
seat, both to forgive sins and to set aside the institutions of 
Mosaism. In Jn. 5 1-47 this line of argument is carried to its 
logical issue. On occasion of a similar healing and disregard 
of the Sabbath Jesus is made to say (ver. 26f.): 

For as the Father hath life in himself, even so gave he to 
the Son also to have life in himself (cf. Mk. 3 4): and he gave 
him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son 
of Man. 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


155 


The dogmatic intention of the second ’ evangelist to prove 
the claim of Jesus to superhuman authority (l^ovo-ta) by appeal 
to his mighty works is unmistakable; but not more so than his 
indifference to historical consistency in making Jesus publicly 
defend this claim while at the same time keeping secret his 
Messianic calling and functions. But the inconsistency is much 
easier to explain if in this anachronistic use of the title ‘Son 
of Man’ Mark is not setting a precedent, but merely extending 
to wider use an unhistorical representation of the Second Source. 
Our first task, accordingly, must be to appraise at their true 
value the conclusions of Harnack regarding the use of this 
title in Q. 

Great as are the exceptions which the present writer feels 
compelled to take to Harnack’s views on other points, such as 
the nature of the Second Source, and its relation to Matthew 
and Luke respectively, it must be admitted that on the question 
here in debate his inferences represent not a maximum but a 
minimum. The Second Source is not Q. That is one of the 
misleading ambiguities of Harnack’s treatment. Q is only the 
common material of Matthew and Luke which these two later 
Synoptists do not derive from Mark. It is (broadly speaking) 
what English critics used to call the ‘double-tradition’ material. 
The larger part of this is certainly taken from a written docu¬ 
ment which when employed by Matthew and Luke was already 
in the Greek language. We designate it the Second Source, 
because it stands next to Mark in the proportion of material 
it has furnished the two later Synoptists. How much of the 
single-tradition material of Matthew and Luke respectively has 
also been taken from this Source we can only judge by intrinsic 
affinities between it and Q material already accepted. 

Then there is the ‘triple-tradition’ material, that is, material 
found in all three Synoptics. Usually it is in such form and 
context as to prove that Matthew and Luke have independently 
borrowed it from Mark. How much of this may have been 
taken by Mark himself from the Second Source, we have but 
the slenderest means of judging. Harnack goes to the extreme 
in excluding everything but Q material from his judgment oi 
the nature of the Source. He admits nothing from single 


156 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


tradition material, nothing from the triple tradition. He even 
excludes a portion of what other critics regard as genuine 
double-tradition material because it differs widely in form as 
between the two witnesses Matthew and Luke. This is done 
with small consideration for the fact that the differences can 
sometimes be explained as due to editorial changes character¬ 
istic of the evangelist in question. The basis of judgment for 
Harnack is therefore certainly a minimum. 

This method is manifestly the safe one. It may do injustice 
to the constructive affirmations we might be able to make as 
to the nature of the Source. In point of fact it has led Harnack 
himself to certain unwarranted conclusions as to the fragmentary 
and incoherent character of the Source. Others, carried away 
by the illusion (unfortunately shared by Harnack) that Papias 
had something to say about this Source, something connecting 
it with the Apostle Matthew and describing its character, have 
pushed these unwarranted conclusions to still greater lengths. 
But these do not affect the question before us, save to reduce 
the material available for proof. Whatever else may have be¬ 
longed to the Second Source we are sure of the main sections 
of Q material, and in these Harnack’s conclusions are already 
justified. As our enquiries continue they will plainly appear as 
corroborated and reenforced by the data otherwise attainable. 

The relatively small number of occurrences in the fourth 
Gospel may be omitted from present consideration. Interesting 
as is the usage which characterizes this Hellenistic Gospel, its 
comparatively late and dependent relation to the other three, 
and the theological rather than historical aim of the evangelist 
are so generally admitted, that we may reasonably confine our 
survey to the Synoptists and the Second Source. Here it may 
prove possible by comparison of each with the rest to determine 
with greater or less probability what principles have controlled 
the usage, both as respects occurrences merely transcribed 
from earlier sources and extensions undertaken by the evangelist 
on his own responsibility. Let us consider first the extensions. 

We may probably assume a general assent to the conclusion 
of Harnack regarding the usage of Q in its broadest, most 
general form, that some of the occurrences in the Second 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


157 


Source are due to the evangelist rather than to Jesus himselt. 
The particular instance Harnack has in view is that of the 
saying contrasting the work of “the Son of Man” with that of 
the Baptist in the Q discourse on this subject (Mt. 1119 = Lk. 7 34). 
But there may well be other cases also in which the pre- 
canonical evangelist has substituted the title for the personal 
pronoun according to his own idea of fitness. On the other 
hand only an extreme and unreasonably sceptical criticism 
would venture to assume that he had no historical foundation 
at all for his practice of limiting his use of the term to utterances 
of Jesus. We may therefore probably assume a general assent 
also to the converse proposition: Some of the occurrences in 
Q represent the actual usage of Jesus. A survey of the eight 
instances enumerated by Schmidt in the strictly Q material, 
that is, occurrences presented in common by Matthew and Luke 
in non-Markan material, ought to throw some light on the 
question what sort of usage, if any, came down to the pre- 
canonical evangelist by tradition or otherwise as representative 
of Jesus, and what sort of usage is typical of himself. 

Of the eight occurrences in Q four, or precisely one-half, 
are of a single type and occur in a single connection. All four 
are found in the eschatological discourse of Mt. 24 27-44, 
paralleling Lk. 17 24-30 and 12 40. The section forms part of 
Matthew’s parallel to the eschatological discourse of Mark 
(Mk. 13), combining with it that of the Second Source in 
Lk. 17 20 - 37 , just as Luke himself has combined elements from 
both in his own parallel to Mark (Lk. 21). The general theme 
of the entire context is the ‘Day of the Son of Man’, a day 
of his sudden Coming, a Day of judgment unescapable, for 
which one must prepare by sincere repentance. Bor the 
evangelists the equivalence “The Son of Man = Jesus redivivus” 
is a matter of course. Their writings are certainly of later date 
than the utterances of Paul himself and of others referred to 
in 1 Thess. 1 10 and 4 15-17, wherein his converts are reminded 
how he had taught them to wait for God’s Son from heaven, 
“even Jesus who delivereth us from the wrath to come”. The 
doctrine is assured by “a word of the Lord”, probably uttered 
by the Spirit through some Christian ‘prophet’, that 


158 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


The Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, 

with the voice of the archangel and the trump of God. 

We also have a reminder in 2 Cor. 5 10 , and (if the reading 
he correct) in Rom. 14 10 also, that we must all “stand before 
the judgment seat of Christ” to receive the due reward of our 
deeds. Paul eschews the term, but the belief is primitive and 
general. Why, then, should not the very earliest Gospel sources 
reflect it in the “favorite self-designation”? 

But it is at least worthy of our notice that in the utterances 
themselves the assumed equivalence is conspicuously absent. 5 
Jesus speaks objectively and in the third person of “the Son 
of Man” as the agent of the divine judgment. In all these 
warnings to Repent, because of the Coming, the Day, the 
Judgment, of the Son of Man, there is no suggestion that Jesus 
thinks of himself as the Coming One. Indeed in such utterances 
of similar warning as Mt. 5 25 f. == Lk. 12 58 f., where the title 
“Son of Man” does not appear, it is much more natural to 
think of God as Judge. This is apparently the case, so far as 
the saying itself is concerned, in Mt. 10 32 f. = Lk. 12 8 f. For 
here Jesus himself (Luke “the Son of Man”) is present, not as 
Judge, but as Witness on behalf of those who have loyally 
confessed him on the earth. The inference would seem to be 
that while Jesus availed himself of expressions common to the 
current apocalyptic eschatology, such as “the Day”, the “Coming”, 
the “Sign” of the “Son of Man”, he left the question of his 
own relation to this Coming One quite open, at least in his 
public exhortations to repentance. 

Since there is no need to suppose that Jesus intended in 
these four utterances any such identification of his own personal¬ 
ity with “the Son of Man” as the evangelists assume, and the 
linguistic objection appears not to be sustained, there can be 
no good reason for questioning their authenticity. The case is far 
otherwise with the other four occurrences of ‘double tradition’. 
Apart from the fact that all four are conspicuously open to 
the objection that they violate the principle of “reserve”, they 
are individually subject to other adverse considerations. 


5 Lk. 17 26 is not in the source. 


BACON: THte SON OF MAN IN THE USAGE OF JESUS 159 

(1) The logion “The Son of Man hath not where to lay his 
head” (Mt. 8 20 = Lk. 9 58) may well be a proverbial saying, 
used in the sense of the parallel utterance of Tiberius Gracchus 
regarding Rome’s homeless veterans. It is difficult to conceive 
it in the mouth of Jesus, whose experience of generous hos¬ 
pitality both for himself and his disciples makes him promise 
them repeatedly (Mt. 10 11 = Lk. 10 5 - 7 ; Mk. 10 30 ) a kindly 
reception, and who refers afterward to their having received it 
(Lk. 22 35). The utterance seems improbable in Jesus’ mouth 
because contrary to fact. But even at the early period of the 
Second Source we must allow for an occasional ‘winged word’ 
being ascribed to Jesus without better reason than resemblance 
in some catchword such as “Son of Man”. The expression is 
here used, of course, in antithesis with the animal creation. 

(2) The contrast of the mode of life of “the Son of Man” 
with that of John the Baptist (Mt. 1119 = Lk. 7 34 ) is generally 
recognized as exhibiting one of the unhistorical occurrences of 
the title, for reasons already set forth. 

(3) In the same context the title recurs again in the saying 
which makes “the Son of Man” a sign to “this generation” as 
Jonah had been to the Ninevites (Mt. 12 40 = Lk. 11 30 ). The 
“sign of the Son of Man” seems to have been a conception of 
current Jewish apocalypse. Whether connected with this ex¬ 
pectation or not the present demand was met in various ways 
in early Christian apologetic (cf. Mt. 21 23-32 and parallels, 
Jn. 2 18 - 22 ; 6 30ff.). The Q context which denounces the “evil 
and adulterous generation” that seeks this “sign” (Mt. 12 38-42 = 
Lk. 11 29 - 32 ), makes it probable that the discourse in its original 
form referred to a double insensibility. The evil generation had 
been deaf to a two-fold appeal. God had sent the Baptist like 
a second Elijah, warning of judgment to come and summoning 
to repentance, but in vain. The Ninevites at the threat of 
Jonah “Yet forty days and Nineveh shall be destroyed” had 
repented in sackcloth and ashes. But the Pharisees and scribes, 
though they saw all the people and the publicans baptized with 
the baptism of John, did not even repent themselves afterwards, 
at this evidence of divine forbearance (Mt. 21 31 f. = Lk. 7 29 f.). 
Therefore in the day of judgment the Ninevites would put them 


160 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


to shame. This, however, was but the first count in the in¬ 
dictment. The scribes had further sinned against the Spirit 
when, witnessing the “glad tidings” of mercy and forgiveness 
proclaimed by Jesus and corroborated by “the Spirit of God” 
visibly expelling the powers of darkness, they had objected, 
“He casteth out by Beelzebub”. The gentle voice of mercy 
and tenderness, wooing the erring to return in this “glad tidings 
to the poor”, was the very voice of “the Wisdom of God”, 
whose loving condescension in going forth to seek and to save 
the lost is justified by her children. This is a greater ‘wisdom’ 
than Solomon’s. Therefore the Queen of the South, who came 
from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon 
would in the day of judgment put to shame those who had 
despised it. God has sent “prophets and wise men”, but Israel 
has rejected both. In this double condemnation it cannot be 
“the Son of Man” who was originally set in parallelism with 
Jonah as the proclaimer of judgment to come. It can only 
have been (as elsewhere in Jesus’ replies to the demand for a 
sign) John the Baptist, the forerunner of the judgment day, 
turning Israel to repentance “in the spirit and power of Elijah”. 
Solomon, not Jonah, stands in parallelism with Jesus. We there¬ 
fore owe the introduction of the title “the Son of Man” in 
Mt. 12 40 = Lk. 1130 to a misunderstanding. The author ot 
the Source in the form in which it lay before Matthew and 
Luke, certainly a Greek document, though probably translated 
from an Aramaic original, has endeavored to adjust the saying 
from a form like that of Mt. 16 4 or Mk. 8 12 , where no mention 
is made of “the Son of Man”, to a form consistent with his 
own idea of “the sign of the Son of Man”. Even so Matthew 
and Luke take different views of the meaning. 

(4) The last of the four occurrences of the title in Q is in 
the context already brought into connection with the preceding. 
In the discourse just described as a denunciation of the “evil 
and adulterous generation” which had rejected both forms of 
the divine appeal, warning of judgment or assurance of for¬ 
giveness, Jesus calls it a “blasphemy of the Spirit” to ascribe 
his works of beneficence to collusion with Beelzebub, because 
the power is not bis own, but “the Spirit of God”. Were they 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


161 


speaking against him as a mere son of man (that is, a man 
like other men) this would be pardonable. But the sin of the 
scribes cannot be lorgiven, because this is the last and Great 
Repentance, and they have used their power as holders of the 
key of knowledge to hinder those who were just entering the 
kingdom. They cannot frustrate the work of God, hut they do 
cut themselves off from all part in the coming redemption. 
In this case we have perhaps a historical use of the generic 
term “a son of man”; but the context itself makes clear the 
fact that no title is intended. The term has simply its ordinary 
sense, a human being, a mere mortal, as opposed to “the Spirit 
of God” 

The result of this individual study of the eight occurrences 
of the title Son of Man in Q is quite striking. Four, which 
all belong to the same type, that is, objective warnings of the 
Day, or the sudden Coming, of the heavenly Judge, we have 
no reason to question; for they go no further than the utterances 
of the Baptist, save that they bring “the Coming one” of whom 
John speaks into relation with the figure of Dan. 7 13 and 
later apocalyptic writers, by use of the special term “the Son 
of Man”. The other four occurrences are of different types. 
All are subject to the historical objection that they could not 
have been employed as represented in the Source without 
provoking opposition such as does not appear to have been 
actually raised until the last days of the ministry, when Jesus 
faced it and suffered the consequences. Individually they show 
that they dd not fit the contexts in which they occur. On the 
contrary they can be easily accounted for as extensions of the 
actual usage of Jesus in accordance with the prepossessions 
of the evangelist. 

In passing to the fourteen occurrences of Mark we must 
be prepared to find on the one hand a certain proportion of 
authentic instances (whether from oral tradition or written 
sources, including among the latter some form of the Second 
Source), and on the other hand an extension due to the evan¬ 
gelist himself, in the same line as that already observed in Q. 
For if the example were once set, whether in Q or elsewhere, 
there would be every reason to expect later evangelists to follow 

11 


162 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


it, seeing all were thoroughly imbued with the idea that Jesus, 
even in the days of his flesh, had all the attributes of the 
heavenly dispenser of divine justice. It is of course no more 
than a coincidence, but certainly a significant coincidence, that 
again in Mark one-half the total number of occurrences, or 
seven in all, belong to a single group or type, for which we 
have every reason to posit some authentic and historical utter¬ 
ance, whereas the other half give evidence in various ways of being 
due to extensions on the part of the evangelist of earlier usage. 

The seven occurrences characteristic of Mark are all dist¬ 
inguished by their common reference to the Betrayal, and are 
usually couched in the Isaian terminology employed by Paul 
(Rom. 4 25; 8 32), which speaks of the Servant as “delivered up” 
(jraptSoOrj ; not 7 rpoedoOrj, as would be appropriate for betrayal). 
The prediction is first made in Mk. 8 31 = Lk. 9 22 , in this 
single instance the language ( aTroSoKipao-Orjvai ) reflecting Ps. 118 22 
rather than Is. 53 6 LXX. ( Kvpios TraptSiDKtv avrov rats ap.apTLa.is 
77 /xwv). It is repeated in Mk. 9 31 and 10 33 , referred to as a 
prophecy of Scripture in 9 12 and 14 21 a, and as fulfilled by 
Judas in 14 21 b and 14 4 if. In all these cases, as also in 3 19 
and 14 is, where the betrayal is spoken of without the title 
Son of Man, the verb employed is the Isaian TrapaSiSocrOai. It 
seems reasonable to infer that the prediction is derived from 
some source in which Jesus’ career was brought into parallelism 
with the work and fate of the Isaian ‘Servant of Jehovah’; for 
in Mark itself no such parallel is attempted, though it can be 
traced in certain elements of the underlying material and is 
a distinctive theme of Luke. Whatever the source, it is not 
permissible to set aside such a series of occurrences as having 
no historical foundation. There is the less occasion for such 
radical scepticism from the fact that every one of the seven 
employments is represented as occurring in discourse addressed 
privately to the Twelve, and either at the revelation of Caesarea 
Philippi or later. It can at least be set down as one of the 
characteristics of Markan usage that wherever this evangelist has 
occasion to place in J esus’ mouth a reference to his anticipated 
fate he prefers to introduce the title “Son of Man” along with 
phraseology which recalls the classic passage of Is. 53 6 LXX. 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


163 


Of the remaining seven Markan occurrences three merely 
reproduce in substance an utterance which we have already 
had occasion to consider in studying the usage of Q, and have 
pronounced beyond reasonable objection on the score of authent¬ 
icity. In Mk. 13 26 we have the same impersonal, objective 
assurance of the Coming of the Son of Man in the conventional 
terms of current apocalypse as in the Q eschatology of Lk. 
17 20-37 and parallels. The same prediction is made in similar 
terms in Mk. 8 38 and 14 62 . To the evangelist Mark these are 
of course so many “self-designations of Jesus”. But inherently 
they carry no such implication. As to their probable basis of 
fact we must enquire later. 

There remain four occurrences of the title in Mark which 
we have good reason to regard as due to the evangelist himself 
for reasons which would naturally commend themselves from 
his point of view. 

In Mk. 1 40—3 6 we have a section which corresponds in general 
bearing with the Q discourse already described, that is, the 
discourse a propos of the coming of the messengers from John 
to ask “Art thou He that should come?”, when Jesus rebukes 
the Pharisees and scribes for their captious objections to his 
message of mercy and his genial mode of life. In Mark as in 
Q Jesus vindicates both his message of “glad tidings to the 
poor”, and his freedom from the fasts and Sabbaths of Mosaism 
by appeal to his mighty works. The chief difference is that 
whereas in Q “the works of the Christ” are appealed to as 
evidences of the present operation of the divine Spirit, a proof 
that the power of the “strong man armed” is broken, in Mark 
Jesus is himself the Stronger one. He proves his own power 
by miracle, and thus defends his own superhuman authority. 
He pronounces sins forgiven, not as in Lk. 7 36-50 because he 
sees the effects of the divine Spirit on the penitent, but because 
as “Son of Man” he is himself endowed with this authority 
even while still “on earth”. Finally he substantiates it by a 
word of power (Mk. 2 5-io). Similarly his disregard of fasts 
and Sabbaths is sustained by the bald declaration that “he 
is the Son of Man” (Mk. 2 28 ; verse 27 , wanting in Daceffit 
and Matthew and Luke, is not part of the authentic text). As 

11 * 


164 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


we have seen, Q also, in two instances, both unhistorical, uses 
the title Son of Man in the discourse on John as Elias. But 
Mark has carried this extension further. The representation 
is not only incompatible with Jesus’ reserve on the question 
of his personality, but is almost diametrically opposed to his 
authentic teaching as regards appeal to “signs”. It is certainly 
in Q rather than in Mark that we get the real appeal of Jesus 
to the “mighty works”. To Jesus these were not proofs of his 
personal authority as Son of Man on earth, but evidences of 
the present working of “the Spirit of God” which confirmed 
the “glad tidings”. In Q “the works of the Christ” are those of 
the Isaian Servant. He does them in fulfilment of the calling 
Is. 42 1 - 4 . 

In Mk. 9 9, the command of secrecy until after the resur¬ 
rection, and 10 45, a contrast of the self-abasement of the 
Servant as against the self-seeking of the Twelve, the context 
would naturally suggest to an evangelist imbued with the idea 
that Jesus used this title as a “self-designation” that it was 
more appropriate than the simple personal pronoun. In Mt. 11 19 
= Lk. 7 34 and Lk. 19 10 we have examples of the schematic 
employment exhibited in Mk. 10 45 . These examples themselves 
may have lain before the eyes of Mark in the Second Source. 

We must therefore pass the same verdict on the usage of 
our second evangelist as on that of his predecessor. Half his 
employments of the title go back to an authentic utterance 
of Jesus, the nature of which is still to be studied. Of the 
remainder three represent an authentic utterance already re¬ 
presented in Q, four seem to be extensions of earlier use on 
the evangelist’s own responsibility. 

In considering the “single tradition” of Matthew and Luke 
respectively we must of course anticipate the same sort of 
phenomena as hitherto. Each evangelist has doubtless a certain 
amount of Second Source material which escapes classification 
under the symbol Q merely because one of our two witnesses 
omitted it, whether through preference of a Markan parallel, 
or merely because it seemed unsuited to his purpose. Such 
source-material must be brought if possible into relation with 
utterances of the same type already considered, but must above 


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165 


all be sharply distinguished from material which shows the 
evangelist’s own usage, if such there he. 

In the case of Luke we may acknowledge at once our inability 
to detect any distinctive usage of the evangelist’s own. There 
are eight occurrences of the title in Luke where the parallels 
do not record it and one in which Luke has the support of 
Mark but not of Matthew, who in this case uses the personal 
pronoun. This last is simply the prediction of Mk. 8 31 = Lk* 
9 22 , “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected”. 
Here the Matthean parallel, Mt. 16 21 makes a new beginning: 
“From that time Jesus began to show to his disciples that he 
must suffer”, etc. After having begun in this way had Matthew 
written “the Son of Man must suffer” it would have seemed 
to imply a distinction between “Jesus” and “the Son of Man”. 
Instead of this he recasts Mk. 8 38 (= Q Mt. 10 32 f. = Lk. 12 8f.) 
in a way to remove all ambiguity: “For the Son of Man is 
about to come in the glory of his Father”, etc. The omission 
is therefore probably intentional. At all events the title stood 
originally in Mark. Luke did not interject it. The eight instances, 
however, in which Luke stands alone are equally far from 
showing any disposition on this evangelist’s part to introduce 
employments of the title on his own account, in the interest of 
a conception of his own. Once (Lk. 6 22) he speaks of obloquy 
endured “for the Son of Man’s sake” where the Matthean 
parallel (Mt. 5 11 ) is probably truer to the source (Q) in writing 
“for my sake”. Wellhausen suspects a translation error “mew 
will cast upon you an evil name”. More probably the change 
is a stylistic improvement of Luke. The obloquy was endured 
because of the disciples’ faith in Jesus as “the Son of Man” 
(cf. Hegesippus ap. Eusebius, H. E. II, xxiii. 13). We may 
suspect a similar stylistic improvement in the promise of Jesus 
to acknowledge before the heavenly Judge those who have 
acknowledged him before earthly judges (Lk. 12 8 = Mt. 10 32). 
The Matthean parallel has simply the personal pronoun “I will 
confess”, where Luke writes “The Son of Man will confess”. In 
both these cases, it is true, the substitution could be ascribed 
to the precanonical evangelist, though in that case we should 
expect to find it in Matthew as well as Luke. In any case 


166 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


the original meaning of the saying seems to ascribe to Jesus 
the function of witness, rather than judge, at the heavenly 
tribunal. M I will confess” is therefore more likely to'be original, 
especially as the tendency of Matthew is to multiply occurrences. 

A further group of three occurrences in the Lukan ‘single 
tradition (Lk. 17 22 , Desire for “one of the days of the Son 
of Man”; 18 s, “If the Son of Man came would he find the 
faith on the earth?”, and 21 36, “Watch, so as to stand before 
the Son of Man”) belong to the class already described as 
characteristic of a part of the Q material, and as probably 
reflecting an actual usage of Jesus. They are mere general, 
impersonal, references to the Day, or the Coming, of the Son 
of Man, the expected agent of divine retribution. “One of the 
days of the Son of Man” in Lk. 17 22 is shown by the context 
to be probably a mistranslation for “the Day of the Son of 
Man”, which is the object of longing as usually represented in 
the Source. Lk. 18 8 should be rendered as above. The meaning 
is: An immediate coming to judgement would give no opport¬ 
unity for the proclamation of the Gospel, which must, according 
to the accepted view (Mk. 13 10 ; Acts 1 6-8), precede the con¬ 
summation. Lk. 21 36 merely summarises editorially Mk. 13 33 - 37 . 
The evangelist uses the title in a perfectly appropriate way in 
referring to the Coming. These three occurrences, accordingly, 
display no distinctive conception introduced by Luke. They 
merely show his acceptance of the idea of Q that Jesus employed 
the conventional term as a self-designation in the current sense, 
viz, the Agent of divine retribution. 

Two occurrences in what would appear to be the Lukan 
‘single tradition’ really represent in slightly different location 
the Marcan references to the Betrayal of “the Son of Man” 
already spoken of. Thus Lk. 22 48, “Betrayest thou (TrapaSiSws) 
the Son of Man with a kiss?”, is simply repeated from Lk. 22 22 
and is the true equivalent, so far as source is concerned, of 
Mk. 14 21 = Mt. 26 24 . Again Lk. 24 7 is the reminder from 
the two angels at the tomb, of Jesus’ prediction “when he was 
yet in Galilee, how that the Son of Man must be delivered up 
( TrapaSodrjvai ) into the hands of sinful men”; in other words it 
simply repeats Mk. 9 31 = Mt. 17 22 = Lk. 21 27 . These two 


bacon: the son oe man in the usage of jesus 167 

occurrences may possibly strengthen somewhat the claim of 
this Marcan use to rest upon pre-Marcan tradition. They 
certainly confirm the evidence of Lk. 622 and 12 8 to a slight 
tendency on the part of our third evangelist to introduce the 
title for stylistic reasons, though he makes no change in the 
sense it bears in his sources. But they furnish no new instance 
for the usage of Jesus. They merely add to the evidence of 
the previously noted Marcan occurrences which show a certain 
disposition to use the title “the Son of Man” in connection 
with the prediction of Jesus that he would be “delivered up” 

( 7rapaSo0yj(r€TaL ). 

Finally we have one occurrence in the Lukan ‘single tradition 7 
of what we have called the schematic use illustrated in the Q 
material by the summary: “The Son of Man came eating and 
drinking” (Mt. 11 19 = Lk. 7 34), and in Mark by the summary: 
“The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to 
minister” (Mk. 10 45 = Mt. 20 28). The declaration of Lk. 19 10 
“The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” has 
precisely the same schematic character as the Q utterance. 
Unfortunately we have no more means of proving derivation 
from the Second Source in the case of Lk. 19 10 than in the 
case of Mk. 10 45 . Both might be due to this Source, but in 
neither case have we the means of proving it; because our 
means of identification disappears in the case of what Mark 
has drawn from it, just as it does in the case where Luke has 
drawn from it without the coincident support of Matthew and 
non-support of Mark. If the story of Zacchaeus (Lk. 19 1-10), 
which winds up with the formula “the Son of Man came 77 , be 
attributed to the Second Source (to which the present writer 
sees no insuperable objection) it must be by other reasoning 
than the usual application of the mechanical formula: Mt + 
Lk—Mk—single-tradition = Q. 

Thus the eight occurrences of the title in the ‘single tradition’ 
of Luke furnish no single instance of employment in any other 
mode or connection than those already illustrated in the usage 
of Q and Mark. Some corroboration of the evidence of these 
earlier sources is furnished by them. They also show a slight 
tendency to increase the number of instances by stylistic 


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extension on the part of the evangelist. But for reliable evidence 
as to the actual usage of Jesus we must fall back upon Q and 
Mark; and even in these oldest sources we must distinguish 
between the usage representing authentic tradition, and the 
usage of the particular writer. 

Lastly we have to consider the nine occurrences in the 
‘single-tradition’ material of Matthew. One of these, the insertion 
of the title in the question of Mk. 8 27, “Who do men say that 
I am?” to make the impossible form of Mt. 16 13: “Who do 
men say that I, the Son of Man, am?” (corrected in some texts 
to “that the Son of Man is”, in Syr. Sin. to “What do men 
say concerning me that I am, saying, Who is this Son of Man?”) 
is a clear case of editorial addition. Two other passages make 
similar extension of the Marcan use. Mt. 16 28 = Mk. 9 l repeats 
the expression from the preceding verse (Mt. 16 27 = Mk. 8 38) 
transforming the Marcan phrase “till they see the kingdom of 
God come with power” into “till they see the Son of Man coming 
in his kingdom”. Similarly Mt. 26 2 interjects it in the parallel 
to Mk. 14 l, by anticipation of 26 24f. = Mk. 14 21. In these 
two cases we have again quite certainly editorial extensions. 
The three together show the usual disposition to multiply 
instances, but the last two have slight bearing on the problem 
of the usage of Jesus, because we already have evidence for 
both types of employment. We know that Mark systematically 
uses this phraseology with reference to the Betrayal. We also 
know that Jesus did employ the term with reference to the 
Day of Jehovah, the Coming of his agent for the ‘restoration 
of all things’ (a7roKaTacrracrts 7ravrwv). Similar considerations apply 
in two other occurrences of the Matthean ‘single-tradition’. 
(1) Mt. 24 30, where in transcribing Mk. 13 25f. our evangelist 
interjects (after the prediction of wonders in the heavens 
introducing the promise “Then shall they see the Son of Man 
coming with clouds”) the supplement “x4nd then shall appear 
the sign of the Son of Man in heaven”. This is clearly Matthew’s 
own addition, showing his idea of the ‘sign of the Son of Man’. 
Still employment of the term in such an objective, impersonal 
way would not conflict with what we have seen must have been 
true of the usage of Jesus. There is also (2) a reference to 


bacon: the son oe man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


169 


the Coming of the Son of Man in the same impersonal, 
objective way in Mt. 10 23 , where the disciples are assured 
that there will be no need to flee to foreign cities because 
“the cities of Israel” will afford them refuge “till the Son of 
Man be come’ . These two instances of Matthean ‘single¬ 
tradition’ are probably the evangelist’s own. But they do not 
conflict with the acknowledged usage of Jesus. 

From these five instances out of the nine of Matthean ‘single 
tradition’ very little is to be gained beyond a minimal corrob¬ 
oration of points already established. It does appear, however, 
that our first evangelist has a decided propensity for the term, 
even going so far in Mt. 26 2 as to transform the mere note 
of time of Mk. 14 1 into a prophecy placed in the mouth of 
Jesus which embodies the mysterious “self-designation”. This 
propensity is further exemplified in Matthew’s transcription of 
Mk. 8 38 = Mt. 16 27 . To Mark’s reference to the Coming of 
the Son of Man “in the glory of his Father with the holy angels” 
Matthew makes the supplement based on Ps. 62 13 (cf. Enoch 
lxiii. 9): “And then shall he render unto every man according 
to his work”. When we pass to the remaining four occurrences 
of the title in Matthean ‘single tradition’ it will be seen how 
typically this addition represents the Matthean conception of 
Jesus as “the Son of Man”. 

This final group of distinctively Matthean occurrences is 
instructive. Not because it has any claim to represent the 
usage of Jesus, for in every case the material of the context 
can be shown by the stereotyped phraseology no less than the 
highly characteristic motive to be the handiwork of the evangelist 
himself. But the smaller its claims to historicity the more in¬ 
structive as to redactional usage. This group of utterances 
placed by ‘Matthew’ in the mouth of Jesus is typical of the 
gradual building up of the impressive total on which a large 
part of insufficiently critical inference has been based. When 
analyzed as to the respective proportion of authentic tradition 
and redactional usage these eighty-one occurrences of the “self¬ 
designation” make a different impression. Lukan usage merely 
repeats that of Q. Matthean usage is characteristic in the 
highest degree of the special interests of the Palestinian Gospel 




170 


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of neo-legalism. This evangelist imports into the usage of Jesus 
the apocalyptic sense of the term in Enoch, with special pre¬ 
dilection for the apparatus of the “throne of glory” (this element 
appears in every one of the four), and the pronouncing of the 
eternal verdict from the heavenly judgment seat. Matthew 
emphasizes to the utmost the rewards of eternal blessedness 
in the kingdom prepared for the righteous from the foundation 
of the world, and the punishments of eternal fire prepared for 
the devil and his angels which are to be the lot particularly 
of the teachers and workers of “lawlessness”. Matthean usage 
is therefore a very definite fact, and one which merits comparison 
with the special nature of the compilation as a whole. 

The so-called Gospel according to Matthew has specially in 
view the “teaching all men everywhere to obey all things 
whatsoever Jesus had commanded” (Mt. 28 20 ). Its general 
structure is like that of the Torah, five bodies of precept, each 
closing with a special formula (Mt. 7 28; 11 1 ; 13 53 ; 19 1 and 
26 1 ) and prefaced by a narrative setting. These are drawn in 
most cases principally from Mark, though in the case of the third 
(11 2 —12 45) principally from the Second Source. A prologue 
(1 1 —2 23 ) and an epilogue (26 1 —28 20 ) form an external historical 
framework. This general structure of Matthew justifies the 
designation ‘Gospel of neo-legalism’. But in addition every one 
of its five bodies of teaching closes with a more or less direct 
forecast of the judgment of the Son of Man, with its reward 
for the righteous and penalties of eternal torment for the 
wicked. The fullest and most typical of these is that which 
brings the entire public ministry to a vivid close with the 
parable (recognized by even so conservative an interpreter as 
W. C. Allen in the International Critical Commentary, as the 
handiwork of the evangelist himself) of “the Son of Man” 
sitting upon “the throne of his glory” and administering the 
divine justice upon “all nations” according to their works, “as 
a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats” (Mt. 25 31 - 46 ). 

(1) A similar picture, warning of the fate of the “false 
prophets” (known by their lack of “good fruits” and destined 
to be “hewn down and cast into the fire”) is prefixed to the 
closing parable of the first discourse (Mt. 7 13 - 23 ), the Lukan 


bacon: the son oe man in the USAGE OE JESUS 


171 


parallel (Lk. 643 - 45 ; 13 23-27) showing that Matthew is here 
combining two Q discourses into a special warning against the 
teachers of “lawlessness”. The specific title “Son of Man” does 
not here occur, but the description by which Jesus is made 
to speak of himself as sitting on the heavenly judgment seat 
is identical with that used elsewhere. 

(2) The brief promise of reward in heaven which closes the 
Charge to the Twelve in Mt. 10 40-42 also lacks specific mention 
of “the Son of Man”, hut corresponds for substance with the 
fuller promise of the final parable (25 31-46). 

(3) The Teaching in Parables (Mt. 13 1 - 52 ) expands the cor¬ 
responding Marcan discourse (Mk. 4 1 - 34 ) by the addition of 
a group of three brief parables all concerned with heavenly 
reward. These are: Treasure-trove (13 44), The Pearl of great 
Price (13 45 f.), and The Sorting of the Fish (13 47 - 50 ). The 
picture painted in this seventh and closing parable should be 
compared with that of the final judgment at the end of the 
fifth and closing discourse (13 49 f.; cf. 41 - 43 ; 22 13 ; 25 30 , 41 and 
Lk. 13 28 f.): 

So shall it be in the end of the world; the angels shall come 
forth, and sever the wicked from among the righteous, and 
shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be the 
weeping and the gnashing of teeth. 

Besides this expansion by additions to the Marcan group at 
its close and one (the Leaven, 13 33 ) which the Lukan parallel 
(Lk. 13 20 f.) suggests was a companion parable in Q to that of 
the Mustard-seed, the total being thus raised to seven, Matthew 
has a great expansion of the parable of the Patient Husbandman 
(Mk. 4 26-29), transforming it into The Wheat and the Tares 
(Mt. 13 24-30), a companion-piece to The Good and Bad Fish 
and The Sheep and the Goats. Besides the parable itself a 
long and detailed Interpretation of the Parable (13 36-43) is 
also added in ‘Matthew’s’ characteristic phraseology, ending: 

As therefore the tares are gathered up and burned with 
fire; so shall it he in the end of the world. The Son of Man 
shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his 
kingdom all things that cause stumbling and them that do 


172 


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lawlessness, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there 
shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. Then shall 
the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their 
Father. 

(4) The discourse on Church-administration (Mt. 18) ends 
with the parable of the Unforgiving Debtor, whose “lord was 
wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay 
all that was due”. The application is: “So shall also my heavenly 
Father do unto you, if ye forgive not every one his brother 
from your hearts” (cf. the supplement Mt. 6 i4f.). 

(5) The final discourse, three chapters in length (Mt. 23—25), 
is all concerned with eschatology, and supplements Q material, 
urging prompt repentance in view of the coming judgment 
(25 1-13; cf. Lk. 13 25; Mk. 13 35-37 and 25 14-20 = Lk. 19 12 - 25 ). 
It closes with the sublime picture of the Son of Man sitting 
on the heavenly judgment seat and pronouncing sentence on 
all nations (25 31-46) to which reference has already been made. 
With these five endings of the ‘Sermons’ of Matthew should 
be compared his supplements to the Q parables of the Great 
Supper (Mt. 22 1-14 = Lk. 14 16 - 24 ) and the Talents (Mt. 25 14-30 
= Lk. 19 12 - 27 ). No doubt will remain as to Matthean ‘tendency’. 
Comparison of the phraseology of the three most peculiarly 
Matthean of the four (M t. 13 37 , 41 and 25 31 ) will explain the 
variation from Lukan phraseology in the case of the fourth 
(Mt. 19 28 = Lk. 22 29 f.). In this case the Second Source spoke 
of “thrones of judgment”, but not of “the Son of Man”. 

This survey of the ‘single-tradition’ material of Matthew in 
which his four individual employments of the title Son of Man 
are found, always in connection with mention of the “throne 
of glory” and usually of the “angels” who execute the sentence, 
should be conclusive as to the distinctive usage of this evangelist. 
They manifestly represent an extension of the evangelist’s own 
in the direction already evidenced in Q. According to ‘Matthew’ 
Jesus in his public utterances, and from the very outset, spoke 
of himself freely as the agent of the divine judgment of mankind. 
He not only referred objectively to the Day of the Son of Man, 
the Coming of the Son of Man, and the like, but used the 


BACONTHE SON OP MAN IN THE USAGE OF JESUS 


173 


title as a “self-designation” about which there was no mystery 
whatever. In his opening discourse he said in so many words 
(Mt. 7 22 ): 

Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, did we not 
prophesy by thy name, and by thy name cast out demons, 
and by thy name do many mighty works? And then will I 
profess unto them, I never knew you; depart from me, ye 
that work lawlessness. 

This is not merely an explicit reversal of the principle enunciated 
in Mk. 9 38-40, it not merely denies the toleration expressed 
by Mark for the professed Christian teacher and wonder-worker 
unless he be sound on the issue of “lawlessness” vs. “good works”, 
but is itself embodied in a manifest editorial recast of the Q 
material of Lk. 13 2 6 f. Matthew applies the Q saying to the 
case of Christian “false prophets” whose pretensions are based 
on professions of loyalty and gifts of the Spirit, but who have 
not the indispensable guarantee of good works. In the original 
form (Lk. 13 23-30) it was addressed to those who count on 
admission to the messianic kingdom because of a mere outward 
association or racial connection with the “Master of the house” 
(who in the parable exercises the functions of the Son of Man; 
cf. Mt. 25 lif. with Lk. 13 25). The Q phrases “weeping and 
gnashing of teeth”, “cast forth without” are appropriate to 
this connection. Matthew has stereotyped them into a regular 
refrain. In reality they carry out the sense of the answer, “1 
know you not whence ye are”. The Q original is equivalent 
to the Baptist’s warning not to begin to say “We are Abraham’s 
seed” (Mt. 3 9 = Lk. 3 8). The meaning is “If you work in¬ 
iquity (aSiKia) it makes no difference whether you are from 
Jerusalem, and descendants of the Patriarchs, or from the 
ends of the earth”. Again we have a clear instance of editorial 
recasting of Q by ‘Matthew’, showing his special antipathy and 
exhibiting in its true colors his idea of how Jesus used the 
conception (and consequently the title as well) of “the Son of 
Man”. It shows us little of the actual usage of Jesus, but 
much of the presuppositions which led to a gradual extension 
of the term into Gospel usage in the later period of Synoptic 
tradition. 


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JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


Our survey of all the occurrences of the title Son of Man 
in Synoptic tradition is now complete. All may be classified 
in a small number of groups according as they represent actual 
tradition, or extensions of the transmitted usage in accordance 
with certain definable prepossessions of the particular writer. 
The ‘single tradition 7 of ‘Matthew’ exhibits a very marked 
extension on the part of this particular evangelist. ‘Luke’ merely 
adds slightly to the number of occurrences by occasional stylistic 
employments. Mark and the Second Source alone offer em¬ 
ployments from which some fairly reliable inferences may be 
drawn as to the real usage of Jesus. In each case we have 
one mode of employment which may be regarded as belonging 
to the tradition rather than to the writer himself because it 
occurs with such frequency, is supported by the testimony of 
other writers, and is not attributable to any particular idiosyn- 
cracy of the writer. 

(1) In the Q material as well as in all later and dependent 
tradition (including Mark) we find evidence which it would 
require arguments more cogent than any known to the present 
writer to set aside, that Jesus made use of current expressions 
such as the Day, or the Coming, of the Son of Man, with 
reference to the agent of divine retribution predicted by John 
the Baptist in the phraseology “He that cometh after me to 
purge his threshing floor”, or more briefly “He that should 
come”. But this alone will hardly account for the difference 
between the usage ascribed by the sources to John and that 
ascribed to Jesus, who alone is represented as using the title 
“Son of Man”. Possibly the writer of the Second Source might 
be held responsible for this identification of the figure of Dan. 
7 13 with the Baptist’s ‘Coming one’. • But this supposition seems 
unnecessarily violent in view of the possibility made so apparent 
by Dalman that Bar nasha could have been used, even if it 
had not yet come to be widely used, in the sense: “the heavenly 
champion of Israel predicted by Daniel”. At least the testimony 
of the Gospel sources beginning with Q is very strong that 
Jesus himself habitually referred to this ‘Coming one’ as “the 
Son of Man”. But they also indicate “plainly enough” that he 
“avoided any messianic self-designation”. The references are 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


175 


impersonal and objective. They carry in substance the message: 
“Be ye ready for the Coming of the Son of Man; for the time 
of judgment and the visitation of Israel is near, of which John 
gave warning in the spirit and power of Elijah”. It seems 
more reasonable, therefore, to ascribe this identification of the 
Coming one of the Baptist (the Angel of the Covenant of Ex. 
23 20 f. and Mai. 3 l—4 l) with the Son of Man of Dan. 7 is 
to no other than Jesus himself. 

(2) The usage of Mark has also a typical employment of 
the title Son of Man which gives evidence of being traditional 
rather than the outgrowth of the evangelist’s own prepossessions. 
The fact that Mark alone has no fewer than seven instances 
of prediction by Jesus of his betrayal, in all of which he uses 
the title “Son of Man”, six times out of the seven in conjunction 
with the Isaian and Pauline term TrapaSoOrjvai, while the single 
tradition of Matthew and Luke adds three further instances, 
strongly suggests an actual utterance of Jesus predicting this 
betrayal. Whether the connection of it with the fate of the 
suffering Servant of Is. 53 6 LXX as in I Cor. 15 3; Bom. 4 25 
and elsewhere is due to Jesus himself, rather than to the earliest 
believers, seems much more doubtful. The evidence of Marcan 
usage (together with the extensions in Mt. 26 2 and Lk. 22 48 
and 24 7) makes it highly probable that at a very early date 
(though probably later than Paul) the association became 
habitual. Consequently when the “delivering up” was spoken 
of the term naturally employed in conjunction with it would 
be “the Son of Man”. 

The characterization of this special usage as “Marcan” over 
against that of Q does not by any means imply that it was 
absent from the Second Source. On the contrary it may very 
well be derived by Mark from the Second Source, though in 
that case it would not appear in Q, because the definition of 
Q is “coincident material of Matthew and Luke not contained in 
Mark ”. The consecutive story of Mark does however, fortunately, 
enable us to bring the utterance into connection with a definite 
and specific occasion. It was when Jesus set his face at Caesarea 
Philippi to go up to Jerusalem, braving a probable martyrdom, 
that he began to predict this “delivering up”, though the earlier 


176 


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references speak not of Judas, but of the Jewish authorities 
as those who will “deliver up the Son of Man”. It is only in 
“that same night in which he was delivered up” (vapeStSoro, 
I Cor. 11 23) that one of the Twelve is named as the agent. 

The curious thing about this usage, which habitually associates 
the term “Son of Man” with references to the “delivering up”, 
is that Son of Man is almost the last expression we should 
expect to be so used. The title to be expected in the Marcan 
group of references is “the Servant”, a title which we only 
know from a few passages in the Petrine speeches of Acts 
(2 13,26; 4 27,30) and half a dozen occurrences in patristic 
writings from 95 to 195 A. D., particularly in passages relating 
to the sacrament, or the sacrificial death of Jesus. It must 
therefore have once had a certain currency; but this it sub¬ 
sequently lost, the form “Thy elect (or “beloved”) Servant” 
becoming “The elect (or “beloved”) Son”. In Isaiah it is the 
‘Servant 7 who is “delivered up”. The ‘Son of Man’ is not an 
Isaian term, and the use of it which we have found to be most 
surely attributable to Jesus is as remote as possible from those 
connected with the “delivering up”. Is there any way in which 
this paradoxical Marcan use can be accounted for? 

The ordinary reply to this question pleads the value of 
paradox itself. Jesus is supposed to have aimed at this very 
contrast. The heavenly Champion of Israel who obtains their 
vindication and eternal dominion over wicked oppressors is 
the very same as he whom they rejected and delivered up. 
The plea would be cogent if applied to those who looked back 
from after the resurrection; but for Jesus it was first of all 
imperative to teach the doctrine of the Servant. The Synoptic 
writers might well effect in their minds this combination; but 
it does not seem to represent very well the mind of Jesus. 
The attitude of Jesus toward his own fate is surely that of 
the Servant, obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. 
He goes to meet it not as one who understands, and confidently 
treads the path to victory, but as one who in faith accepts 
the cup extended by the Father, trusting though he slay him. 
It does appear, however, and that not by the testimony of 
Mark alone, but by the coincident testimony of Q, of Mark, 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


177 


and of one of the “ faithful sayings” of the primitive Church 
(II Tim. 2 11 - 13 ) that in connection with this same prediction 
of “delivering up” Jesus also gave assurance of vindication for 
his cause, and for all who maintained their loyalty to it in 
spite of “trials”. This vindication would be in the Day of the 
Son of Man. 

For the promise of this ultimate divine vindication is historic¬ 
ally indissociable from the prediction of the “delivering up”. 
Even if Mark had not so explicitly made the connection in 

8 34—9 l we should have been obliged to infer something of 
the kind in order to account for the facts of the later story. 
The “faithful saying” of II Tim. 2 n-13 parallels Lk. 22 28-30, 
suggesting the farewell Supper as the true historical occasion. 
In Mk. 8 38 it is made part of the warning of the cross. But 
here the Roman evangelist shows clearly his use of a tradition 
coincident with the Second Source if not of the Second Source 
itself. The same promise is not only repeated by the later 
Synoptists in transcribing Mark (Mk. 8 38 = Mt. 16 27 = Lk. 

9 44) but independently in Mt. 10 32 f. = Lk. 12 8f. This Q form 
of the promise which Mark brings into direct connection with 
the prediction of the “delivering up” (thus as it were marking 
the beginnings of the equivalence “The Servant = the Son of 
Man”) has so much to do with the origins of Marcan usage 
that we may take the liberty of placing the Matthean and 
Lukan forms in parallel columns: 


Mt. 10 32 f. 

Whosoever then shall confess 
me before men, him will I also 
confess before my Father who 
is in heaven. But whosoever 
shall deny me before men, him 
will I also deny before my 
Father who is in heaven. 


Lk. 12 8f. 

Everyone who shall confess me 
before men, the Son of Man 
will also confess him before 
the angels of God. But he 
who has denied me before men 
shall be denied before the 
angels of God. 


Here the reference is manifestly to the scene of Dan. 7 13. 
Our two witnesses differ as to whether the Second Source used 
the title Son of Man or not. To both of them that is a matter 
of indifference because in their view “the Son of Man” was a 

12 




178 


JOURNAL OP BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


“favorite self-designation of Jesus”. Matthew’s complete recast 
of Mk. 8 38—9 l (= Mt. 16 27 f.) shows clearly enough his idea 
of the promise. Jesus himself sitting on the throne of glory 
will render the verdict, as depicted in the parables (see above, 
p. 170). In Luke this is quite uncertain. The idea may be 
only “I will witness at God’s judgment seat, for those who 
have witnessed for me in the face of earthly judges”; but as 
regards the extent of Jesus’ use (not the content) Luke takes 
the same ground as Matthew and Mark. All three probably 
represent in this the usage of the Second Source. But why 
should the Second Source introduce the term if it was not in 
reality characteristic of Jesus? Two phenomena, typical re¬ 
spectively of the Q usage and that of Mark, are worthy of 
our attention at this point, and may throw some light upon 
the question. 

1. We have already called attention to the distinction to 
be drawn between a group of occurrences in Q which appear 
to represent authentic tradition, and others which we have 
good reason to believe are extensions due to a preconception 
of the precanonical evangelist. Jesus probably referred to the 
divine judgment of which the Baptist had forewarned as “the 
Day of the Son of Man”. He probably did not draw the 
comparison between his own mode of life and that of the herald 
of judgment in the form: “John came ... the Son of Man came”. 
In this respect the report of Q is probably misleading; for, 
as Harnack puts it, he had just before, in the same discourse 
“plainly enough avoided any messianic self-designation”. The 
Source is therefore to some extent at odds with itself. What 
can account for this inner discrepancy? 

The great Q discourse Mt. 11 2 —12 45, when compared with 
its Lukan parallels shows as its principal motive condemnation 
of the Jewish leaders for their rejection of “the Christ” in 
spite of the correspondence of his ministry with that foretold 
in Isaiah of the rejected and suffering Servant of Jehovah. This 
is the point of the “avoidance of any messianic self-designation” 
in Jesus’ reply to the question of John, who is told in substance 
to observe how the Isaian prophecy of the “consolation of Is¬ 
rael” is being fulfilled, and not to be stumbled if he sees no 


bacon: the son oe man in the usage oe jesus 


179 


sign of the Coming one he himself had predicted (Mt. 11 2 - 6 ; 
cf. Is. 35 3-6; 26 14 (the heathen say: “they are dead, they shall 
not live”), 19 ; 61 if.). But the answer to John serves as a mere 
introduction to the main discourse, which takes up again the 
question of “the works of the Christ”. And what they signify 
with reference to his own mission and personality. John had 
been near to “stumbling” because the works of the Servant 
were not what he had looked for in the Coming one. The actual 
“stumbling” of the scribes and Pharisees at this same work 
of blessing and grace among “the poor” is for Q the fulfilment 
of the divine “decree” (evSoKia) to hide these things from the 
wise and prudent and reveal them unto babes (Mt. 11 25-27 = 
Lk. 10 21 f.; cf. Is. 299-14). For Q Jesus incarnates that “Wisdom 
of God” who is justified by her children, the “babes”, or “little 
ones” of Is. 29 23 f. (Mt. 11 i9ff. = Lk. 7 34 ff.). This is the Son 
who makes known the Father. His career is summed up by 
“Isaiah the prophet” when he gave his description of “the 
Servant whom I have chosen; the Beloved on whom I fixed 
my choice” (Mt. 12 17 - 21 ; cf. Mk. 1 2 - 4 , lof. and parallels). Such 
is the fundamental Christology of the Second Source. Its Christ 
is the Servant-Son of Dt.-Isaiah and Wisdom of Solomon. 

The Q fragments come in different order in Matthew and 
Luke, and there are sections probably belonging to Q which 
only one of the two has embodied, but in whatever order 
restored, and however fragmentarily, it is manifest that the 
conception of “the Son” which to the author’s mind corresponds 
with the real ministry of Jesus is that of the Isaian Servant. 
This is the great truth which the Baptist is encouraged to 
see, while Pharisees and Scribes remain wilfully blind to it. 
Jesus may, or may not be the Coming one whom John has 
looked for. He is the Servant-Son. The unhistorical use of 
“Son of Man” in Q, representing an extension on the redactor’s 
part of the authentic, reflects the paradox above referred to. 
The writer thinks that Jesus could have said to the crowd “I 
decline to admit that I am the Coming one of John; however 
I freely acknowledge that I am the Son of Man”. His own 
material reverses this. It implies that Jesus would have said: 
“You can see for yourselves if you do not resist the witness 

12 :;: 


180 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


of the Spirit, that my works are the works of the Servant. If 
that be your ‘Coming one’ be it so. 

2. Curiously enough the same impression is made by the 
typical usage of Mark. It is the title “the Servant” which 
would be appropriate in all the instances which refer to the 
“delivering up”. “Son of Man” offers an unexplained paradox. 
True we have the latter title in its proper sense where Jesus 
answers the challenge of the high priest to say whether he is 
"the Christ, the Son of the Blessed”: “I am: and ye shall see 
the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming 
with the clouds of heaven”. But the story of the Trial before 
the Sanhedrin (Mk. 14 55-64) belongs to those elements of the 
second Gospel which are most obviously redactional. The parallel 
in 15 i-5 is more historical. This occurrence should therefore 
be classed with Mk. 2 10 and 28 as one of the extensions of 
the evangelist. Only, no new content is imported into the title. 
In Mk. 14 62 as in 13 26 the evangelist merely reproduces the 
authentic use of Q (Mt. 24 37ff. = Lk. 17 26ff.). 

But we have already seen reason to believe that the group 
of occurrences in Mark which speak of the “delivering up” of 
the Son of Man represent some older tradition. Just as in 
Mk. 1 n and parallels “Son” is clearly substituted for “Servant” 
(cf. Mt. 12 18 ) so in this extensive group “Son of Man” seems 
to be used as in Q to mean the one who is now the Servant 
but will soon be manifested as the Coming one predicted by 
John. Now Mark shows little interest in the Isaian prophecy. 
It is only Luke who dwells upon the correspondence between 
the fate of Jesus and the predictions of Is. 53. It is therefore 
less probably our Mark than some source common to Mark 
and Luke which underlies the predictions of martyrdom in 
Mk. 8 31 , 9 3i, 10 33, the schematic statement m 10 45 with its 
counterpart in 14 24, and the references to prophecy in 9 12 
(a doubtful passage) and 14 21 . In the last named verses it is 
peculiarly infelicitous to use “the Son of Man” in referring to 
predictions which speak of the Servant, while no such prediction 
is anywhere made of “the Son of Man”. Should not this peculiar 
use in Mark of the one title where we should most expect the 
other be placed alongside of the similar phenomenon in Q? 


bacon: the son of man in the USAGE OF JESUS 


181 


The typical Marcan usage just referred to appears to rest 
on earlier authority; but does it go back to Jesus himself? 
The fact that Paul refers to the prediction of Isaiah not as 
if Jesus had himself so declared, hut merely as a primitive 
doctrine of the Church based upon “Scripture" (I Cor. 15 3) 
is rather opposed to this. But, as we have seen, it is impossible 
to hold that Jesus did not claim to be “the Christ”. On the 
contrary it would be impossible without this to understand 
how the earliest witnesses came to think of his employment 
of the apocalyptic term Son of Man as a ^/-designation. 

With the advancing shadow of the cross Jesus was driven 
to sustain both his own faith and his disciples’ by increasing 
the proportionate emphasis on the transcendental aspect of the 
messianic hope, thus making the equivalence Son of David = 
Son of Man more and more unavoidable. He expressed his 
fearless confidence in the “good pleasure” (evSo/aa) of the Father 
to give the Kingdom to his little flock. How, then, if not 
through their Leader? And if through a martyred Leader 
how otherwise than at the judgement seat of the Ancient of 
Days? The oldest Source records this unconquerable faith of 
Jesus through its version of the institution of the Supper, a 
version all the more significant from its complete independence 
of the Pauline (I Cor. 11 23-26) as well as the Marcan form 
(Mk. 14 22 - 26 ). The Q passage Lk. 22 28-30 = Mt. 19 28 records 
an interpretation of the bread and wine of the Covenant, sup¬ 
ported, as we have seen, by allusions in I Cor. 6 3 and II Tim. 
2 n-13, uttered in the same tone of heroic faith: 

Ye are they that have endured with me in my trials; and 
I covenant (StaTt0€/x<n) with you a kingdom, even as my Father 
covenanted with me (SiWero /jlo i); that ye shall eat and drink 
at my table in my kingdom; and ye shall sit on thrones 
judging the twelve tribes of Israel. 

Connection with Q has been denied to this passage on the 
ground that it is not in the spirit of the Second Source. Even 
were this true it would not affect the claim to authenticity, 
since the attestation is the same as for Q. In reality the ob¬ 
jection rests on no better foundation than failure to recognize 


182 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


an allusion to the “thrones of the house of David” of Ps. 122 4f. 
which was self-evident to Andreas of Caesarea. The words are 
of course symbolic, uttered in a tone of defiant exaltation in 
the face of death, intelligible only by reference to the scripture 
passages whose phraseology they adopt (II Sam. 9 7, 10 , 13; Ps. 
122 4f.). The Christology they reflect is that of the Son of 
David (cf. Acts 15 16 - 18 ; Didache ix.). But their testimony 
cannot be set aside. Corroborated by that of the cross itself 
it shows that Jesus did perish as “King of the Jews”. 

We have indeed no need to show that Jesus’ conception of the 
Kingdom was not “according to the things of men”. Never¬ 
theless, from Caesarea on, the hope of it was irrevocably linked 
to his own fate. Moreover it was to be given by God, not 
conquered by men. How else, then, can we imagine Jesus 
reassuring the Twelve that his own impending death would not 
frustrate God’s design, if not by his pointing to the classic 
prophecy, where in vision Daniel sees the representative of 
down-trodden Israel brought to the heavenly judgment seat, 
not to dispense justice but to seek it, one “like unto a Son 
of Man” receiving on behalf of Jehovah’s little flock “the ever¬ 
lasting dominion which shall not pass away”. On the testimony 
of Mark we may well believe that Jesus himself in these days 
of preparation for the great tragedy spoke among his intimates 
those reassuring words pointing to the vision of Daniel which 
in due time were to be recalled as proof that all his earlier 
impersonal references to the coming of the Son of Man were 
mysterious “self-designations”. The Matthean version of this same 
promise of reunion in the glories of the New Jerusalem, when 
compared with the simplicity of the Lukan form, is typical of the 
advance of apocalyptic Christology in the period of neo-legalism: 

Ye who have followed me, in the Regeneration, when the Son 

of Man shall sit upon the throne of his glory, ye also shall 

sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. 

Note. It is regrettable that the article “Did Jesus call Himself 
Son of Man?” in The Journal of Religion iov September, 1922 
should have appeared too late for consideration here. The author, 
Dr. Carl Patton, answers his own question in the negative. 


porter: the thought oe paul 


183 


THE PLACE OF APOCALYPTICAL CONCEPTIONS 
IN THE THOUGHT OF PAUL 

FRANK C. PORTER 

YALE UNIVERSITY 

T HE place of apocalyptical elements in the religion of a 
Jew or a Christian of the first century is not a merely 
historical problem, if by history we mean the study of sources 
and relationships. It is in every case a question also of inter¬ 
pretation, a psychological or a philosophical question, or perhaps 
one would better say a question of the personal quality and 
reaction. In the case of Paul the question is complicated, not 
only by peculiarities of his mind, but by the striking and dis¬ 
tinctive quality in his religious experience. The resurrection 
of Christ was to Paul a fact of his own observation, and it 
was an eschatological event, and the first such event, as is clear 
in I Cor. 15 20 - 28 . We have therefore to do in the case of 
Paul with one who regards last things as having already begun; 
and we shall see that there is involved in that fact a deep¬ 
going change in the signification of the apocalyptical ideas 
themselves. It is one thing to expect a supernatural intervention 
of God in the immediate future, the incoming of the heavenly 
world and its powers, bringing this present world to an end 
and bringing in the world to come, and quite another thing 
to believe that an event recently passed was the hoped for 
coming of God into the world, the overthrow of the powers 
of evil and the inauguration of the time of redemption and 
blessedness. Apocalyptical conceptions may no doubt be said 
to have an important place in the thought of a man who holds 


184 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


this remarkable opinion, but the nature of apocalyptic hopes 
will be so transformed by such a conception of their fulfilment 
that the word can only be used with caution. To Paul, on 
account of the life, death and resurrection of Christ, all things 
had become new, including his fundamental conceptions of the 
other world itself, and of the nature of the dualism which in 
one sense or another is at the foundation of the apocalyptical 
view of the world. The new age had dawned and its powers 
were present and were experienced; Paul found himself a new 
being in a new world; and yet all things outwardly remained 
as they were. The other world must therefore be within and 
not beyond. A spiritualizing of the apocalyptical hope would 
be necessarily involved in the conviction that the new age was 
in a real sense present; and it would seem that nothing could 
be clearer than that in Paul apocalyptical conceptions have 
been in principle, whether more or less consciously, spiritualized. 
The new man that Paul feels himself to be is the man in 
whom spirit dominates over flesh, the man in whom love has 
overcome selfishness, who no longer lives to himself. Yet Paul 
is one who can look forward as well as backward for the 
coming of the Lord, and outward as well as inward. Though 
things are still outwardly as they were before Christ rose, 
while inwardly all things are new, yet they are not always to 
be outwardly the same. Paul does not question the primitive 
Christian expectation of the coming of Christ, although it is 
his past coming that is the supreme crisis in world history. 
The apocalyptical, therefore, comes into Paul’s thought both 
as a means of interpreting the life and death and resurrection 
of Christ, and his present power as indwelling spirit to trans¬ 
form men’s lives, and also as a hope for the speedy consum¬ 
mation of that redemption which is already a matter of ex¬ 
perience. The central question that is before us therefore is 
that of the actual effect upon Paul’s inherited ideas about the 
Day of the Lord and the World to Come, of Christ himself as 
a historical fact and as the present power of a new ethical life. 

Whatever may be true about the eschatological ideas of 
Paul it is certainly true that he illustrates the fact that 
apocalyptical and spiritual conceptions can stand side by side 


porter: the thought of paul 


185 


in one mind, apocalyptical and prophetic, we may perhaps say, 
and that the question is not between the one and the other 
but is a problem of the degree and manner of the relationship 
between the two. There is no doubt a strong tendency in 
common human minds to move from the prophetic to the 
apocalyptic, from the inner to the outer, from the spiritual to 
the miraculous; but the opposite movement is no less possible, 
and is to be expected in the case of greater men. We have 
a right to assume that men of great intellectual and moral 
nature and of creative influence in the spiritual history of man 
are in touch with realities in their thinking, rather than with 
myths and imaginations. Certainly in the case of Paul we are 
dealing with a very great man, with one also who had a very 
great experience which he could only speak of as a dying and 
living again. It is not unhistorical in the case of such a man 
to look for and expect to find transformations of outward things 
and of current opinions through which they become expressive 
of absolute values and universal human experiences. 

Just now the tendency seems to be to emphasize the apoca¬ 
lyptical element in Paul and to regard every spiritualizing inter¬ 
pretation as an unhistorical modernizing of his modes of thought. 
This tendency has extreme expression in Schweitzer’s Paul and 
His Interpreters} In this “critical history” of the interpretation 
of Paul, Schweitzer finds the true view suggested only by 
Ludemann (1872), and in Kabisch’s Die Eschatologie des Paulus 
(1893), both of whom emphasize the objective, physical nature 
of redemption, and especially Kabisch the purely eschatological 
foundation and structure of Paul’s thought. Schweitzer insists 
that Paul made no use whatever of Hellenistic ideas and that 
Jewish apocalyptic is the sole source and character of his 
Christianity. He labors especially to prove that the mysticism 
of Paul has nothing to do with Greek mysticism. The fundamental 
strain in it he insists was not ethical but physical. Although 
neither his mysticism nor his sacramentalism are Jewish, yet 
they have no touch of the Greek in them, and are to be under¬ 
stood as founded upon eschatology. Paul is one whose thought 

1 Geschichte der paulinischen Forschung , 1911. In English, 1912. 


186 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


moves in the apocalyptic system created by the books of Daniel 
and Enoch. Schweitzer makes much use of the word naturhaft, 
and favors the translation of it by the word “physical”, by 
which he means that body and soul are redeemed together, 
and that the whole world, the material universe, is to be 
transformed by a great catastrophic event. The clue to the 
understanding of Paul, he thinks, is to be found in the peculiar 
conditions of the brief intermediary period between the death 
of Jesus and the parousia, during which the natural and super¬ 
natural are both present in an unadjusted relationship to each 
other. The questions which he says we must answer in order to 
understand Paul are those that concern the scheme and order 
of the events of the end. They are such as the following: Are 
there two resurrections or one? one judgment or two? who rise 
at the parousia? does judgment take place then? who are 
judged, and by what standards, and in what do reward and 
punishment consist? what happens to those who are not destined 
to the Messianic kingdom? the fate of believers who fall by 
unworthy conduct,—can they lose their final blessedness, or are 
they only excluded from the Messianic kingdom? does Paul 
recognize a general resurrection, and if so when? when does 
the judgment take place at which the elect judge angels? 
Now it is not to be denied that Paul expresses opinions on 
some matters of this sort, although the fact that he leaves so 
many questions to be asked may itself indicate that he is not 
much concerned with the answers. But surely one who thinks 
that questions like these lead us to the heart of Paulinism 
lays himself open to the answer given most effectively by 
Beitzenstein, that he leaves not only Hellenism but Personality 
out of Paul, explaining him as a mechanical mixture of certain 
definite elements. It should, on the contrary, be the aim of 
the historian to grasp the personality of such a man as Paul 
and to understand him from himself, as well as from the 
environing world. 2 The one-sidedness of Schweitzer’s inter¬ 
pretation is generally recognized. In fact the failure of any 
adequate appreciation of Paul casts suspicion back upon 

2 See Reitzen stein, Religionsgeschichte und Eschatologie, ZNTW, 1912, 

pp. 1—28. 


porter: THE THOUGHT OE PAUL 


187 


Schweitzer’s more influential effort to interpret the mind of 
Christ in exclusively apocalyptic terms. But there are others 
who feel justified in saying that Paul’s outlook is at bottom 
that of Jewish apocalyptic. 3 Can this rightly he said, or in 
what measure is there truth in such a position? 

If Jewish apocalyptical conceptions lie at the foundation of 
Paul’s Christian thought we should expect evidence of it in 
his use of literature. As a matter of fact his use of the Old 
Testament shows no interest in the more apocalyptical types 
of prophecy. He interprets the Old Testament in a Christian 
sense, hut does not seem concerned to find in it predictions 
of this or that detail of the life of Christ and the beginnings 
of Christianity, as do the writers of Matthew or Acts. He 
agrees with all Christians that Christ died for our sins and 
was buried and has been raised on the third day “according 
to the scriptures”. But his chief concern is to read the Old 
Testament as a whole in such a way that it shall be seen to 
mean not Judaism and the Law but Christ and Christianity. 
The most important and difficult thing that Paul had to do 
in his Christianizing of the Old Testament was to justify his 
freedom from the law and the setting aside of Israel’s pecul¬ 
iarity and prerogative. The bearing of his use of scripture on 
the question before us justifies our dwelling on the matter 
somewhat and noting his preferences. Paul’s usual way of 
citing Scripture is with the use of the word yeypairrat. It is 
hard to be exact in enumerating the occurrences of this form 
of citation; but he uses it about thirty-six times, nine for 
citations from the Pentateuch, sixteen from the Prophets, and 
ten from the Psalms and Job, leaving I Cor. 2 9 for the present 
out of account. Of the thirty-five, eleven are from Isaiah and 
nine from the Psalms. Adding to these, other formulas of 
citation and also passages evidently quoted, though without 
any formula, we find thirty-four from the Pentateuch, thirty- 
three from the Prophets and twenty-nine from the Hagiographa. 
Of the thirty-three, twenty-two are from- Isaiah, and of the 
twenty-nine, twenty-four are from the Psalms. Besides actual 

3 See for a recent example Morgan’s The Religion and Theology of 
Paul , 1917, page 6. 


188 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


citations there are of course other uses of Old Testament 
language. No list of such reminiscences or allusions can in the 
nature of the case be complete. For our present purpose we 
may take the phrases which Westcott and Hort print in uncial 
text in their edition, together with a few obvious additions. 
Including with these the citations proper, I find seventy-one 
references to the Pentateuch; five to the Former and ninety- 
eight to the Latter Prophets; and seventy-one to the Hagio- 
grapha. Of the ninety-eight, sixty-six are to Isaiah; and of the 
seventy-one forty-four are to the Psalms. Three-fourths of the 
whole number are from the Pentateuch, Isaiah and the Psalms. 

It is surely not simply an accident that Paul makes so little 
use of the more distinctively apocalyptical parts of the Old 
Testament. In the quotations proper there are none at all 
from Daniel. From Ezekiel there is only one, and that some¬ 
what uncertain and of no significance. It is evident that 
Ezekiel did not interest Paul. From Zechariah there is one 
(8 16 ); but of the apocalyptical elements of this book Paul 
seems to have made no use. There is one citation from Joel 
(Rom. 10 13), again not eschatological. Among the allusions 
there is one to Daniel in that most apocalyptic of all sections 
of Paul’s letters, the prediction of Antichrist in II Thes. 2 3-12 
(compare 2 4 with Dan. 11 36 f.). Even those who are not doubtful 
of the authenticity of this book commonly agree that this 
apocalyptic fragment is as little “Pauline” and as evidently 
borrowed as any passage in his letters. It is certainly an 
extraordinary fact that the Book of Daniel, which has so 
important a place in the Gospels and Revelation, has practically 
no value to Paul in his search through the Old Testament for 
Christ. That he does not use it or reflect upon it seems to 
bear upon the obscure question of his knowledge of the title 
“Son of Man”, and the special conceptions of the Messiahship 
and the parousia which belong to that title. Considering the 
frequency of Paul’s references to the parousia and the closeness 
of the connection of this expectation in the Gospels with 
Daniel 7 13 and the name “Son of Man”, the absence of the 
title in Paul’s letters and his complete indifference to the Book 
of Daniel are surely significant. We are left then with this 


porter: the thought oe paul 189 

result, that the apocalyptical literature which was certainly 
within Paul’s reach and had the undoubted character of 
canonicity he did not care for; and that he was practically 
content, so far as literary helps were concerned, to argue for 
the truth of Christianity against Judaism from the Pentateuch, 
and to find Christian faith and experience expressed in the 
language of Isaiah and the Psalms. 

We have now to consider the one passage in which Paul 
quotes with the words “as it is written” a saying which is not 
found in the Old Testament, namely I Cor. 2 9. According to 
Origen the saying was found in the Secrets of Elijah the Prophet, 
a non-extant Jewish apocalypse. For our present purpose it is 
enough to make two observations on this apparent exception 
to the rule that Paul shows no interest in apocalyptical literature. 
In the first place his introduction of the quotation with the 
words Kaflws yeypairraL, tvith which he uniformly quotes the Old 
Testament, makes one suspect that he intended here to quote 
Isaiah 64 4 LXX. But in the second place a study of the 
course of thought in I Cor. 1—3 will make it, I think, quite 
certain that Paul is not speaking here of things eschatological, 
but of the Gospel itself, that wisdom of God which has been 
hidden but is now revealed to those who have received the 
spirit of God. The “things which eye saw not, and ear heard 
not, and which entered not into the heart of man, whatsoever 
things God prepared for them that love him”, were to Paul 
not things that are still future, but the things promised of old 
which Christians have now received. These are things that 
God freely gives, but which can he known only by the spiritual; 
and my own conviction is clear that Paul does not intend by 
the wisdom which he speaks “among the perfect” to indicate 
an esoteric gnosis, whether about eschatological or other 
mysteries, additional to and distinct from Jesus Christ and him 
crucified, who is to us “wisdom from God, and righteousness 
and sanctification, and redemption”. 

If Paul knew any uncanonical apocalypse it would be the 
Book of Enoch. His attitude toward Daniel makes us realize 
that he may have known Enoch very well and yet have cared 
nothing for it and made no use of it. Charles, in the Intro- 


190 


JOURNAL OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE 


duction to his Book of Enoch (2 ed. § 19), says, “The influence 
of I Enoch on the New Testament has been greater than that 
of all the other apocryphal and pseudepigraphic hooks taken 
together”. Then, after including the direct quotation of Enoch 
in Jude 14-15, the allusions to the fall of the angels in Jude 
and II Peter, and the probable connection of I Peter 3 19 - 20 
with Enoch 10, without distinction, in a long list of unconvincing 
parallels in the Catholic Epistles and Revelation, he turns to 
Paul, who “as we know, borrowed both phraseology and ideas 
from many quarters”, and says, “We shall find that he was 
well acquainted with and used I Enoch”. The evidence follows, 
twenty-one passages quoted without comment or discrimination. 
They consist largely of such phrases as the following: Angels 
of powers and angels of principalities; He who is blessed for¬ 
ever; In His name they are saved; This present evil world; 
According to His good pleasure; Children of light, etc. It is 
of course evident that expressions like these give no proof 
whatever of literary use. They are often of a biblical character, 
or are so slight as to carry no weight. Indeed one suspects 
that the verbal likeness is often due to Charles 7 translation 
rather than to the original author. Only two of the parallels 
have any real interest, Enoch 62 15-16 has a real likeness to 
Paul’s comparison of the resurrection body with a clothing 
from heaven in II Cor. 5 2 - 4 , and to his conception of the 
spiritual body in I Cor. 15; and the light that appears on the 
face of the holy and righteous in Enoch 38 4 , may well be 
compared with the light of the knowledge of the glory of God 
in the face of Jesus Christ of II Cor. 4 6. The likeness in 
thought is important, but Paul’s language does not suggest 
literary relationship. Just now Dr. Rendel Harris (Expository 
Times, June 1922, p. 423) argues that Paul makes a direct 
reference to Enoch 38 4 in II Cor. 3 is, which he would read 
in accordance with Tertullian’s apparent quotation from Mar- 
cion’s New Testament, “as if from the Lord of Spirits”, instead 
of (R. V.) “even as from the Lord the Spirit”. This is an 
interesting suggestion, but it is by no means so certain as 
Dr. Harris thinks. This great verse in Paul is shaped by the 
account of Moses in Ex. 34 29-35 with which Paul has been 


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191 


dealing from verse 7 on, and needs no further explanation. 
The reading of the Greek manuscripts ( 7 n/ev/mTos, never TmL'/xarwv), 
in spite of a certain difficulty, follows not unnaturally from 
the sentence “The Lord is the Spirit” in verse 17; and the 
substitution of the Enoch phrase “Lord of Spirits” in Marcion’s 
text is not difficult to account for without the assumption of 
its originality. 

Very much, of course, is to be learned about current views 
of the world in Paul's time, and so about his own views, from 
the apocalypse of Enoch, and still more from the later 
apocalypses of Ezra and Baruch. These to be sure date a 
generation after Paul’s death, but they are not so remote as 
Enoch is from the ideas and spirit of Rabbinical Judaism, 
and could have arisen, one would think, within the circles of 
such rabbis as afterwards joined the final Messianic revolution 
under Hadrian. But the differences in every direction which 
Christ made in Paul’s thought prevent our inferring from these 
books what Paul’s answers would have been even to such 
questions as Schweitzer asks; still less can they teach us the 
actual significance of apocalyptical hopes in Paul’s religion. 
If we can trace two movements in the New Testament, one 
towards a greater elaboration of apocalyptical expectations, 
from Q to Mark, from Mark to Matthew, from Matthew to 
Revelation, and the other away from the apocalyptic toward 
the spiritual apprehension of the other world and man’s relation 
to it, we must certainly say that Paul stands near the be¬ 
ginning of the second of these movements, of which the issue 
is in the Gospel of John. Paul appears to be moving away 
from the apocalyptic interpretation of Christianity. Assenting 
to what primitive Christians held as to the speedy coming of 
the Lord, he was yet not deeply concerned with its external 
features. He was greatly interested in the heavenly world and 
in the future age, but when we ask in what sort of another 
and future world his life was centered it appears at once 
how fundamentally different his interests were from those of 
apocalyptic religion. 

It would be interesting in this connection to compare the 
spirituality of Paul with that most spiritual of the apocalypses, 


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the Parables of Enoch. The word spirit is central in this 
writer’s religion. God is the Lord of Spirits who has filled the 
world with spirits. The spirit world is not to be seen by men 
and can be known only by revelation through one who has 
been translated into it. Religion consists in faith in the reality 
of the hidden dwelling places of the righteous, in the Lord of 
Spirits, in the Divine Wisdom which also dwells there, having 
found no dwelling place on earth, and in the Son of Man and 
his future coming as judge. One who has faith in this unseen 
world will renounce the present evil world and all its works 
and ways. When this other world takes the place of the present, 
the righteous will be changed in nature into accordance with 
that world and will be clothed with garments of glory, garments 
of life from the Lord of Spirits, which shall not grow old. 
They will enjoy familiar companionship with that Son of Man, 
in a world in which there is nothing corruptible and from 
which all evil shall have passed away. 

Paul also knows two worlds and knows that it is the religious 
task of man to have his real home in the heavenly world. He 
also has seen in vision this heavenly realm and the heavenly 
man who dwells there and who is to be judge of the world. 
But Paul knows who this heavenly pre-existent man is. He is 
the exalted Jesus, but still Jesus himself, who had just lived 
and died in Palestine. It is in the light of his personality 
that Paul interprets the heavenly world. It is on this account 
that he never characterizes it as the apocalypses invariably 
do in language suggested by the actual vault of heaven, the 
sun and the stars. When in the third chapter of Colossians 
he admonishes Christians to seek the things that are above 
where Christ is, to set their minds on the things that are 
above, not on the things that are upon the earth, he says two 
things about it: that the Christian’s life is there already, “for 
ye died, and your life is hid with Christ in God”; and that to 
seek it, to set one’s mind upon it, means to put away earthly 
passions and unloving tempers and to put on the new man, 
that is the heart of compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, 
long-suffering, and above all love. This then is the nature of 
the other world in Paul’s otherworldliness. It is above and 


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can be seen in vision, but it is within and must be gained by 
moral effort; and whether above or within its name and nature 
is Christ. Paul makes no use even of his own apocalyptic 
vision (2 Cor. 12 1 - 5 ) in what he says of the world above. Why 
should he depend on the visions of others? 

It may be worth while to notice a remark by .Franz Boll 
in his Aus der Offenbarung Johannis (1914). He finds that 
where the influence of the Old Testament fails to account for 
the imagery of the apocalypses, parallels can often be found in 
the Hellenistic literature of prediction. These analogies are 
numerous in the Book of Revelation, and at many points 
illuminating; and there are also many parallels between the 
Synoptic apocalypses and these texts of Hellenistic astrology; 
but Boll remarks (p. 135, n. 1) that he does not find in the 
apocalyptic passages in Paul any allusions to the Hellenistic 
texts which he has compared. 

The dualism of Paul is made fundamentally different from 
that of the apocalypses by the fact of Christ. The doctrine of 
the two worlds, this world and the world to come, is often 
thought to be one of the distinctively apocalyptical conceptions 
of Paul, but its place in his scheme of thought is very different 
from that which it occupies in the apocalypse of Ezra. Paul 
can still speak of this world and of its rulers and even its 
god. The present world is the place or time of the power of 
evil. The Christian is not to be conformed to it. But he has 
already been delivered out of it. He is experiencing its end. 
Paul scarcely ever speaks of the world to come (see only 
Eph. 1 21 where its use is rhetorical). In fact the age to come 
has already dawned for the Christian. Its powers are already 
experienced, and its glories possessed. Already “all things are 
yours . . . whether things present or things to come”. The 
dualism which is the key to Paul’s thought is not expressed 
in the words of Ezra, “The Most High has made not one world, 
but two” (4 Ezra 7 50 ), but rather in the contrast between 
flesh and spirit, flesh being essentially Paul’s word for human 
nature apart from the Spirit of God, which is the Spirit of 
Christ, or simply Christ (Rom. 8 1 - 11 ). The word spirit has 
indeed its eschatological connections; but it is unnecessary to 

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argue here the evident and recognized fact that one of the 
greatest achievements of Paul was his thoroughgoing re-inter¬ 
pretation of the conception of spirit into accordance with the 
actual character of the historical Jesus (I Cor. 12—14). Spirit 
remains of course to Paul the Divine Power operative in 
human life. But because he subjects it to the ideals and 
character, the mind, the love, of Christ, the supernatural 
becomes spiritual without losing its supernaturalness. Here as 
everywhere else when Paul thinks of the other world and of 
its forces and operations he thinks of Christ; and it is the 
difference which this makes that it is most essential to under¬ 
stand if one would know what has become of the apocalyptic 
elements of his inheritance in the mind of the Christian Paul. 
Only to this we must always add that Paul does not look away 
in order to see Christ, but within. The amazing fact of the 
Christ-likeness of the Christian is inseparably bound up with 
the transcendent fact of the God-likeness of Christ. And the 
Christ-likeness of the Christian is a fact which fills Paul with 
wonder and humility, but of which he is never for a moment 
in doubt. It is therefore possible for us, if we would know 
what Paul means by the other world, and therefore what the 
essence of his apocalyptic conception is, to look not only with 
him at Christ, but to look at him, and at Christ in and 
through him. 

There are of course those who strenuously object to the 
idea that the actual historical fact of Jesus and the reality 
of his personal qualities and characteristics are the source of 
Paul’s conceptions of religion. It is often argued, as con¬ 
spicuously by Wrede, that the Christ of Paul’s Christianity 
had nothing to do with the historical Jesus but was a purely 
mythological figure of Paul’s inheritance, the heavenly being 
who came to earth on man’s behalf, died on the cross for 
man’s sin and his redemption, was exalted to the throne of 
God as Lord, and is soon to come as judge. To this view, as 
to so many opinions that are expressed about Paul, one feels 
like answering neither yes nor no. One should rather deny the 
alternative and reverse the emphasis. It would require space 
that I cannot here take to give the evidence that convinces 


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195 


me that Paul knew well, even before his vision, just what 
manner of man Jesus was; and that the vision was his sudden 
conviction that this wholly un-messianic teacher, this lowly and 
crucified one, was the heavenly Messiah of his faith. It was 
just because in Jesus God had exalted humility and self- 
sacrificing love to lordship, and revealed them as the secret of 
the Divine, the foundation and the goal of all things, that Paul 
experienced so complete a revolution in all his ideals and ideas. 
The newness of all things was, we may believe, first of all a 
newness in his ideals and in his character. His letters are full 
of expressions of his sense that he had already become, though 
he was still always becoming, like Christ in his moral nature; 
and about the qualities of that nature he is never uncertain or 
obscure. They are not in the least different from the qualities 
which in the Gospels we recognize as those of the historical 
person Jesus Christ. Paul knows these qualities as one who 
himself possesses them, or rather is possessed by them, not as 
one who learns about them from others. Paul himself, whom 
we know far better than we know his teachings, is the con¬ 
vincing truth that the Jesus whom he knew was the Jesus of 
history. 

The real question, therefore, which we need to ask about 
the eschatology of Paul is, What results naturally follow and 
actually followed from these two great facts which are united 
in his great experience, the fact of Christ and the fact of 
Paul’s own new nature in conformity with Christ? 

We notice at once that the very fact that Paul’s religion 
is embodied in his personality distinguishes him from all the 
writers of apocalypses and puts him rather in the class of the 
great prophets, whose greatest message was themselves. Paul 
does not write under the name of some ancient man of God. 
His letters have more of himself in them than any other biblical 
writings, even the prophecies of Jeremiah. There is always an 
element of unreality even in the greatest of the apocalypses. 
Their assumed authorship involves a separation of the things 
they write from the actuality of their knowledge and experience. 
They are students of ancient oracles and are subject to tradition. 
We feel in them an incapacity to distinguish between outward 

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forms and inner meanings, between symbols and realities. In 
all these things Paul is the opposite of an apocalyptic spirit. 

Paul’s experience was his own. The unseen world is there¬ 
fore not in the same sense mysterious and external as it is 
when looked at by an outsider. When one has in some real 
sense seen God for himself his wonder and reverence are not 
less, but yet the God whom he knows has become in some 
sense his own inner and true self, and is not a God remote in 
space, whom one can see only in trance, or distant in time, 
for whose coming one has to hope and wait. 

Much can be said for the value of the apocalypse, for its 
advance toward a cosmic and universal range and scope, and 
lor its effectiveness in holding men’s faith to the unseen reality 
and future coming of the rule of God in times of stress and 
strain; nevertheless it remains true that rational soundness and 
ethical strength are lacking in the apocalypses in comparison 
with the older prophecy. Paul’s account of the newly revealed 
wisdom of God in I Cor. 1—3 is altogether in the direction 
of a return to inwardness and reality. Spiritual things are 
spiritually judged, and must therefore be known by every man 
for himself, quite in accordance with Jeremiah’s ideal (31 31-34). 
The man who thus sees and judges is free and needs no 
outward authority. In this description of the nature of the 
new knowledge the nature of the things known is given. They 
consist of such things as can be known only in this way; and 
Paul is surely unmistakable in his indications as to what these 
things are. They are things that create humility over against 
all pride of opinion, and they are things that issue in the 
unity of mutual love, in contrast to everything that produces 
jealousy and strife. The height and depth of knowledge which 
Paul prays that Christians may apprehend is nothing but that 
love of Christ which passeth knowledge. Moral motives and 
values are dominant in the eschatology of Paul. 

The coming of the Lord was always the center of the Old 
Testament and Jewish hope for the future. For early Christian¬ 
ity and for Paul the coming of the Lord was the coming of 
Christ. Paul takes this expectation for granted as a primary 
and unquestionable part of the new religion; but its place in 


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his leligion is different from its place in Matthew or in 
.Revelation. Paul knows three comings of Christ. The first is 
the historical coming; and Paul sees more clearly than popular 
Jewish Christianity did that this has and keeps the place of 
first importance. It is by the life, death and resurrection of 
Jesus Christ that redemption has been wrought out and 
accomplished. The cross is to Paul the dividing point between 
the old and the new. When Christ was raised by God from 
death and became life-giving spirit and was given the supreme 
title of Lord, a new creation was brought into being which 
can be compared only to God’s calling of light out of darkness 
in the beginning, or to his making the first man a living soul. 
The gospel thus revealed and imparted is the light of the 
knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 
The spiritual nature of the second man, the heavenly, is the 
beginning and source of a new and in the end all-inclusive 
humanity. This means that the coming of God, which was the 
hope of Paul’s favorite Old Testament books, Isaiah and the 
Psalms, is in the most real sense a historical fact of the 
immediate past. With the resurrection of Christ the age to 
come has already begun. There is surely reason enough in this 
alone to account for the fact that Paul has little interest in 
the apocalypses, which have to do only with the future mani¬ 
festation of a God who is now hidden or withdrawn. The 
difference involved in this conception of Paul is much more 
than a difference in time between a future and a past event. 
It involves a fundamental difference in kind. Externality and 
sensible images must essentially give place to inner experience 
in the thought of one to whom the fundamental intervening oi 
God in human history took place in Christ and in his death 
and exaltation. 

To understand the way in which Paul conceives this coming 
we must turn to w T hat follows directly from it, to Paul’s addition 
of a second coming of the Lord to his past historical coming, 
namely his present coming as spirit. The present experience 
of Christ as indwelling, and as the Divine Power that re-creates 
human nature, is the most characteristic and original element 
in his Christian thinking. The phrase “in Christ” seems to 


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have been his own creation, and expresses his sense that Christ 
has become in some most real though mysterious sense the 
Divine element in which he lives, his own new nature, truly 
himself, though also not himself, the reality of the immanent 
God, whose presence means now the power of righteousness, 
and hereafter the power of eternal life. J. Weiss {Das Ur- 
christentum , p. 408) says, “If the mystic experience is the 
anticipation of future blessedness as present, then mysticism 
is in a certain way the annulling or overcoming of eschatology. 
In the degree in which the eschatological hope still rules in 
the religion of .Paul, in that degree his religion is not mystical. 
This however is the case in so high a degree that the range 
of mysticism in him is thereby very considerably limited”. My 
own inclination would be to put emphasis on the contrary 
inference, and say that the importance of eschatology in the 
religion of Paul must be very considerably limited by the vivid 
reality with which Paul conceives his own life and that of every 
Christian to be already a life of oneness with Christ. The word 
spirit was of indispensable value to Paul in his effort to express 
this part of his Christian experience and to keep in relation 
with one another factors in it which were difficult to hold 
together. The spirit is both supernatural and inward; it ex¬ 
presses our experience of the Divine as both above us and 
within. Of course the present experience of Christ as Divine 
Spirit did not exclude from Paul’s view the expectation of his 
personal coming and the desire for a personal ‘being with the 
Lord’. On the other hand, Paul speaks of the spirit as the 
ground of our hope (Rom. 5 5), as the pledge, the first fruits, 
the promise, the seal, of that which is still to come (Gal. 3 14; 
Rom. 8 23; II Cor. 1 22 5 5; Eph. 1 13 , 14 4 30 ). The resurrection 
of Christ, which as we have seen was to Paul the first properly 
eschatological event, is thought of by him as something already 
experienced in the case of every Christian. “Ye died, and your 
life is hid with Christ in God”. “If then ye were raised together 
with Christ, seek the things that are above”. And this being 
raised together with Christ means that the Christian walks in 
newness of life. 4 In this language of Paul concerning the dying 
4 See Rom. 6 1-11. 


porter: the thought of paul 


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and rising of men with Christ there is the most striking 
evidence of the ease and naturalness with which the eschat¬ 
ological is converted in his mind into present inward and 
ethical experiences. One feels that this characteristic is due 
less to a natural mysticism in Paul than to the strength and 
consistency with which he carried through his picture of the 
actual character of the actual Jesus, and subjected all things 
to the test of that character. It is because it was Jesus who 
died and rose that his dying and rising become not only facts 
of the past, and not only among past facts the greatest in 
human history, but also inner experiences, the death of 
fleshly passions and of all selfishness and every divisive feeling 
and the beginning of a new and until then impossible kind 
of life. 

In this quality of Paul's Christian thinking we see a further 
reason why apocalypses would lose their appeal to him. The 
spirit of the greatest of the apocalypses is a spirit of ex¬ 
clusiveness and of fear and hatred toward the world. They 
express the self-assertion of the Jewish, or as in the Book of 
Revelation of the Christian, church, over against a dominant 
world power that threatens its destruction. Their strength is 
in their appeal to the martyr spirit of fidelity amid persecution, 
in view of the certain intervention of God for the destruction 
of the wicked and the elevation of the faithful to power 
and blessedness. But to Paul the love of God, as evident 
and effective in Christ, puts an end to distinction, and works 
in and through men toward the creation of oneness and peace. 
The hope of the writer of Daniel is for the destruction of 
Antiochus Epiphanes and of the Greek empire, and the rule 
in its place of the people of the saints of the Most High. 
The hope of John, the prophet, was for the fall of the Roman 
empire; and for this the writers of the apocalypses of Ezra 
and Baruch looked forward, as did the earlier Psalms of 
Solomon, and the Assumption of Moses. Paul also has his eye 
on the Roman empire, but his apostolic calling, and his passionate 
desire and confident expectation, are not its destruction, but 
its conversion; and this difference is due to Jesus, that is to 
the fact that the Messiah is now known to be a man long- 


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suffering and forgiving toward sinners, drawing and uniting all 
men through the power of his humility and love. 

"What now is distinctive in Paul’s view of the still future 
coming of that Christ whose first coming brought redemption 
and created a new T world, and whose present inward coming 
is the power of new life in men, transforming them progressively 
into its own likeness? The parousia, or manifestation, or coming 
of the Lord is appealed to by Paul frequently as a motive to 
Christian living, and is desired by him as meaning a closer 
fellowship of the disciple with his master. We should expect 
to find that Paul’s hope for the coming of Christ is consistent 
with his understanding of the significance of his death and 
resurrection as the turning point in history, and with his con¬ 
viction that Christ already lives in him. And in reality the 
future coming does seem in Paul’s thought to bring only fullness 
and completion to that which has been already given and is 
already possessed. Christ is to Paul always a person toward 
whom his love is intense and his loyalty and devotion unbounded. 
But he is at the same time a divine principle and a human 
ideal. Because this principle and ideal is Love, only a person 
can be its expression or embodiment, a person who loves and 
is loved. It is not only the distinctive characteristic of the 
Christian religion that it is embodied in an actual person, but 
its nature is such that it could not be contained in any other 
vessel than that of personality; or, we may say, Christ was 
such a person that the religious movement started by him must 
because of its nature continue to be bound up with him. To 
one who, like Paul, thus conceives of religion, the coming of 
Christ could no longer mean the coming of a certain nation 
to political dominance, nor the coming of Enoch’s Son of Man 
as the divine agent for judgment. It could mean essentially 
nothing but the completion of the coming of the Divine Love, 
and that in its only conceivable embodiment in personalities. 

In two passages Paul discusses the coming of the Lord in 
some detail. 1 Thes. 413—5 n aims to allay the fear that 
Christians who die before Christ’s coming would have no part 
in it. Paul’s answer is that the dead and living will fare alike, 
and that ‘being ever with the Lord’ is equally the goal for all. 


PORTERTHE THOUGHT OF PAUL 


201 


In I Cor. 15 the objection of the Greek mind to the idea of 
resurrection is discussed at length and a middle path is sought 
between the Jewish conception of resurrection and the Greek 
conception of the immortality of the soul, its separation from 
the body being its escape from a prison or tomb. Paul’s thought 
is determined here of course in part by his Hebrew heritage 
but also and fundamentally by that which forms the ground 
and the contents of his hope, the destined oneness of the 
Christian with Christ. Death will not separate us from him, 
but rather his coming will mean our translation, out of death, 
or, if we live, out of our flesh and blood nature, into the spiritual 
nature of Christ. We shall bear his image as we have borne 
the image of Adam. Personal fellowship with Christ, and to 
this end likeness in nature to Christ, constitute the real 
meaning of the coming of the Lord to Paul. It is impossible 
to read his letters and still suppose that the physical descent 
of Christ, the shouting and sound of the trumpet of God, the 
bodily rapture of Christians into the spaces between earth and 
heaven, are original with Paul or of any essential importance 
to him. To be forever with the Lord is his hope, and he will 
not tolerate any conceptions which seem to him to put in 
danger the certainty and full reality of this personal life with 
Christ. Death before his coming must not stand in its way; 
and the nature of life after death cannot be different from his 
life after death. To Paul the Greek immortality of the soul 
did not seem fully personal nor fitted to introduce the man 
himself into the presence of the heavenly Lord. Unless we also 
rise, and rise just as he did, to the same sort of heavenly 
existence, how can we hope for that association with him which 
is our heart’s desire? “None of us liveth to himself, and none 
dieth to himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; 
or whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live 
therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s.” “Our citizenship is in 
heaven; from whence also we wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus 
Christ; who shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, 
that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, according 
to the working whereby he is able even to subject all things 
unto himself.” In such sentences we have both the contents 


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and the spirit of Paul’s eschatology. To he with Christ and 
to be wholly one with him is then the thing essential and all- 
inclusive. 5 

If we look for further details which do not suggest the mere 
acceptance of current tradition but seem to be matters of 
Paul’s own interest and reflection, we note especially the 
following. In the first place Paul looks forward to the redemption 
of the body as that which is still future, for those whom the 
spirit of life in Christ Jesus has already freed from the law 
of sin and of death, and who are even “not in the flesh, but in 
the spirit”, because the spirit of God, that is the spirit of Christ, 
or Christ himself, dwells in them. We “who have the first 
fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, 
waiting for our adoption, the redemption of our body”. This 
is that “revealing of the sons of God” for which the whole 
creation waits, since it will bring to creation itself deliverance 
from the bondage of corruption. This magnificent picture of a 
transformation of the physical world into its destined fitness 
for spiritual life (Rom. 8 18 - 25 ) is surely the creation of Paul’s 
own genius. It implies in striking form his conviction that the 
greater redemption, that of the human mind from the dominion 
of sin, is a thing of past fact and present experience. The 
inward is essentially achieved; the outward remains for the 
future. 

Another striking prophetic outlook of Paul concerns the 
completion of his own task as apostle to the Gentiles, the 
subjection of humanity in its completeness to Christ, and the 
inclusion in the end of his own brethren to whom sonship and 
the promises originally belonged (Rom. 9—11). 

In I Cor. 15 20 - 28 , we have an apocalyptic picture which 
depends in part on tradition but is shaped by Paul’s mind, 
and reaches at the end a high and difficult point on which 
we could have wished that he had cast further light. Paul 
everywhere understands that Divine Love, which is the mind 
of Christ, is the creator of unity. He assails more vehemently 

5 The writer has discussed more fully Paul’s conception of life after 
death in a chapter of Religion and the Future Life , edited by E. H. Sneath, 
The Revel! Co. 1922. 


PORTER: THE THOUGHT OE PAUL 


203 


than any other fault in his Christian churches every tendency 
toward strife, ill will, envy, rivalry, and self-assertion. Christianity 
means the end of all those distinctions which religion itself 
had magnified in the past. “There is no distinction” (Rom. 3 22 ). 
“There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither 
bond nor free, there can he no male and female; for ye all 
are one man in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3 28 ). “Where there cannot 
be Greek and Jew, circumcision and uncircumcision, barbarian, 
Scythian, bondman, freeman: but Christ is all, and in all” 
This last passage (Col. 3 11 ) belongs in the description of what 
Paul would have Christians see and become when they set 
their minds on the things that are above. When Paul looks 
forward to Christ’s completion of his conquest of evil he sees 
a fulfillment of that supreme forecast of prophecy “The Lord 
shall be King over all the earth: in that day shall the Lord 
be one and his name one” (Zech. 14 9). The oneness which is 
the goal of Paul’s hope is not only created by the Divine Love> 
but is certainly in its nature the oneness of love. When there¬ 
fore Paul says, “when all things have been subjected unto him, 
then shall the Son also himself be subjected to him that did 
subject all things unto him, that God may be all in all”, he 
cannot mean a return of the movements of history and nature 
into the God from whom they went forth of such a nature that 
an abstract and empty unity alone is left. God is the fulness 
of life and his oneness can be only inclusive of all that love 
is and effects. At this high point of Paul’s passion and thought 
we are certainly to see nothing inconsistent with, or different 
from, that other height, perhaps the greatest that he attained, 
where he exclaims, “I am persuaded, that neither death, nor 
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things 
to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, 
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8 38 f.). 

The eschatology of Paul is of such a nature, so vital, so 
alive with the force of his personality, so “carried alive into 
the heart by passion”, that it is impossible to approach toward 
an understanding of it except by the use of his own words. 
Paul was of course a man of his time, and we can learn from 


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him much in regard to the thoughts of his time as to heavenly 
things and beings, and future divine events. We need also the 
light of all contemporary literature, including the apocalyptic, 
in order to understand his language and the forms of his 
thought. But Paul was a great personality and had a great 
experience; and the new feelings and thoughts which this 
experience' called forth in him are more significant than the 
forms in which they struggled for expression. It is possible 
that a development can he traced in his letters from more 
outward to more spiritual forms of hope; hut the underlying 
principles of his religion of hope remain the same, and what 
is more certain and more important than a development of his 
ideas is the fact that always and everywhere the bearing and 
natural tendency and effect of his thought and feeling are 
toward the spiritual. The Christian both is and is to be like 
Christ. And that which we hope for we already possess, and 
so know, even though only in part, yet with the certainty of 
actual experience. But this Christ-likeness now and hereafter 
is both a gift from God, a divine creation, and also equally a 
moral ideal and achievement. Paul charges his disciples to 
become that which in reality they are, to walk by the spirit 
by which they live, and urges them to strive for the goal to 
which they are destined; speaking of himself also, even at the 
end of his life, as still seeking to lay hold of that for which 
also he was laid hold of by Christ Jesus (Phil. 3 8-14). There 
is scarcely any analogy in the literature of apocalyptic to the 
way in which Paul undertakes as man’s own purpose and 
responsibility all that for which he also hopes from the purpose 
and manifest coming and act of God. 
















































































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